


Heart of the Mountain

by KitWolfren



Category: The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-24 01:46:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17695265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KitWolfren/pseuds/KitWolfren
Summary: Esteri is brought to a world she has never heard of and unceremoniously left there by two blue wizards. Now she has to make her own way, but falls into the company of a brooding dwarven king who begins to stir her long lost heart, but will it last? What will come of the locked heart in the woman and of the dwarf destined to die?





	1. And A Star Falls

**Author's Note:**

> Plot Bunny #39: OC was starting a relationship before the gold sickness, but he said cruel things and banished her, breaking her heart. During BOFA, she is tasked with staying in Thranduils/Bards tent to stay safe, with the Arkenstone. The heart of the mountain...a heart without a home, and a girl, with a broken heart...Middle Earth has strange magic after all.
> 
> Adopted Plot Bunny from Sdavid09 on Tumblr. 
> 
> I own nothing Tolkien, my Finnish history is not so good I apologize. I am making no profit from this, it is purely for entertainment purposes. Enjoy

Taika Kivi was a young woman who lived on her family’s homestead in Finland. Her parents had lived there for a very long time, building the house from bricks and mortar, and great hewn logs, fitted together with such skill that no cold crept into the house when the fire was lit. By the time her and her brothers had come along, running water had been added, and electricity had brightened their world. She grew up in a happy and loving home, full of joy and laughter. Her father worked the land, and sold his crops, her mother sewed beautiful dresses, and sold them almost faster than she could finish them. The four children wanted for naught, and their bellies were full. The boys grew into strong young men who helped their father before marrying off and building homes and lives of their own. The trouble was Taika. While she had grown into a striking beauty, hardy and strong from their hard won good life, she remained soft of features and gentle. She had little interest in any of the suitors who came to her, always her head was in the clouds or in her story books. She learned her mothers trade, and the beautiful gowns and clothes she created made those that her mother had made pale in comparison. She was the talk of the town, a town that had grown up not far from their farm, no more than two miles from the outskirts of said town, on a wide flat near the slow moving river. 

One of her brothers built his home nearby, and the other two moved to towns and villages not far from them. They visited many times a year, and soon there were new babies to adore, and the family grew in number and joy. But still Taika remained a maiden, though she was content in her life, her parents, now aging, worried for her. From a young age, however, their mother had insisted they learn English, and another language of their choosing. Taika had chosen German as well. The boys had learned their English, one had taken up Spanish, one had learned French, and another had decided upon Russian. Now they each learned a little of the other languages, just by exposure, and could converse well enough in most of them, albeit not fluently. But it had given the boys plenty of work opportunities. As such, Taika was left with little need to marry a man to support her, as her brothers doted on their darling little sister. So when she wished it, they were able to send her off to an European college, quite the fine one, and she came back to their home well learned, and had authored a small number of books. Some for children of which she was fond of, dedicated to her many nieces and nephews, and a few adventurous romances, done under a pseudonym, along with a very popular inspirational novel, a fictitious telling of her life from her point of view. It propagated charities for women’s education and paved the way for the start of an organization to help girls get an education they would otherwise be denied. 

This had made Taika feel as though she had success in her life. And she was content. 

However, blessedly after her accomplishments could give them a sense of pride, her beloved parents passed away. All of the brothers, having their own homes and lives, had agreed that Taika should have the homestead as her own inheritance. And she moved back in, though it was bittersweet. They divided their parents personal items and mementos, then set Taika up with a comfortable life. 

It came then, as a surprise when she had to announce she was with child, some years after moving back into the old home. Immediately her brothers were up in arms to find out what man dared to touch their sister and leave her with a child and disappear, no matter what reassurances she offered. Taika would never say who the father was. To the rather old fashioned townsfolk this became quite the scandal and Taika withdrew to her own lands. The only hands who stayed on were those that had been close to the family, and they helped her work the farmlands. And as nature moves along, soon she brought into the world a beautiful baby girl, given the name Esteri, for she was the brightest star in Taika’s sky. 

Esteri, or Essi, was an unusual child. She was quiet, rarely laughing and only crying when she had need of something as a baby. Soon the crying stopped, aside from the few moments of great pain, when she had broken her finger falling from the wood pile, or split her lip when the hoe slipped from her hand. She was eager to work hard, had an innate sense of how things worked and how to repair them, with a very mechanically inclined mind. She could hunt, fish, and forage for her own meals, a set of skills she had insisted upon learning herself. Taika found her daughter had a great deal of energy and after a fight with some older kids, she channeled that in some youth martial arts classes that lasted well into her late teens. Essi had a great thirst for knowledge, even as a young child, and was always learning more and more. She would spend hours working hard, never would she have been described as frail or willowy, she was a hardy girl, who didn’t shirk from a hard days work. Oft had she impressed a farmhand with her ability to toil in the fields and do her share. Even as she grew, however, it was rare to get a show of emotion from her. But always her mother loved her, and cherished her Esteri, whose name means star. And Essi grew into a strong woman, bearing both strength of body and mind, who lived in the quiet home in Finland, speaking the languages her mother and uncles spoke, learning to play with her cousins, and learning to work for herself. She took a job in a machine shop, which might have seemed like a job for men, and menial labor to some, but creating parts and using lathes to craft detailed components to larger constructs fascinated her. True she was the only female employee, but that hadn’t slowed her down, and the men the the shop eventually warmed to her when they saw how well her mind worked and saw that she could keep up with them physically, even surpassing them at times. 

And like her mother before her, her thoughts had not turned to fancies of romance and the admirations of men. Instead she was practical and driven, wanting to support her failing mother, and to carve out her place in life. She did take time to spend with her mother when she could, having grown and moved to a simple apartment in town in order to be closer to work. But every Christmas she would don one of her mother’s dresses and they would place candles upon the family grave marker. There were no true graves as most of the deceased had preferred cremation, aside from her eldest uncle whose American wife had preferred him to be buried. Taika had no qualms with that and when the wife too had passed they were buried side by side beneath an giant oak tree, one that Essi had grown up climbing. Even now, at the age of twenty seven, she favored the spot during her visits to her mother.

It was a grandiose and proud tree, with a wide trunk and thick branches. Essi’s mother had been quite superstitious and was pagan, rather than following the Christian standards that the country had adapted to some many generations prior. So when it came time to lay Taika to rest, Essi knew she would bury her mother’s ashes beneath the tree, and she did so near where her uncle and aunt lay. The funeral was lovely, for even as ostracized as Taika had been because of her unusual pregnancy and life, she had been much loved by her neighbors, and had gathered to her heart many dear friends. Essi’s surviving family came and stayed in town, or at the homestead, until everything was set to right. Essi inherited the old house, but by the time she had turned thirty, she had given it, with no recompense, to her favorite cousin, for he had started a large family and his wife’s ill health had left them with plenty of bills. The home was still in her name, but they could live there without rent, and his two eldest sons, identical twins who were always up to no good, did manage to keep the place in good repair, amidst their mischief. The three little girls that followed planted flowers aplenty, and the home was again thriving and lively. Essi was pleased by this, and continued to live her life in town, checking in on them from time to time. 

It was upon one such visit, when she had slipped away to tidy the grave markers at the old rowan tree, that her life took a unexpected and strange turn…

Walking up to the tree, which had grown far beyond expected standing twice as high as most of its ilk, the sturdy blonde woman, with a dust of freckles upon her fair skin, cast her steel blue gaze upon the three stone markers. “Hey, äiti,” she greeted her mother, crouching down first to sweep debris from the base of the marker, laying white lilies there. She repeated the same for the other markers, but came back to sit in front of her mother’s. “Well, work is good, the boys are behaving finally and I’ve just about finished this last project. If I do a good job, maybe they’ll let me run the lathe full-time! It’ll mean better pay.” She absently traced the etched letters of her mother’s name on the stone. “I wish I knew what to do… I can’t help but feel like something is still missing. I know, I know, you said I would grow into it and find that missing piece, but… I feel hopeless, äiti.” Gently she pressed her forehead against the cool surface of the stone, closing her eyes she whispered, “Please, send me an answer, send me help.” 

After a short while more of sitting by the stone, Essi climbed up into the rowan tree as she had done many times, finding the board that had been nailed up by one of her older cousins when they were children. It made a seat between forked branches and there she had spent many an hour reading and whittling. Pulling out the smooth wooden pendant she had made a few years prior, she rubbed her thumb over the worn surface. It was a simple shield shape, their family crest, though in the twenty first century that meant little. She thought it was a nice connection to their past to retain it though. The image carved and burned in the wood was a great winding tree atop a tall mountain. As she sat back against the rough bark she closed her eyes, letting her mind mull over various thoughts. Her work, her cousins, the history of her family. So it came as a surprise to her when she heard voices below her. Not ones she recognized, and they were speaking a foreign language. She cautiously crept down, staying behind the dense foliage of the great rowan. The first thing she spotted was a man in a tall blue hat, with a wide brim, though it sat cocked on his head like a antiquated Frenchman might wear. He had a worn blue cloak over a blue robe. There was another man with him, dressed in similar colors, though not as worn and a brighter shade. His hat was off, in his hand, and he was looking inside it. Who were these men? What were they doing on her land? After a few moments she realized, strangely, she could understand them. 

“Well,” The first man sighed, “it’s of no use, if you can’t find the trail now!”

The second, far shorter and more portly than his companion scowled. “N-nonsense! I can f-find it!” And he flicked his hat around, swirling what appeared to be water inside. A walnut shell floated upon the surface, spinning in the center of the water. “It sh-should be here!”

The tall man huffed, stroking a long silver beard. “Well I don’t see anyone!”

Essi tilted her head, wondering what two Englishmen, going by their accents, were doing on her back lot. Having enough of this, she rubbed her nose a moment in thought and swung herself expertly down from her perch. “Excuse me!”

Both men gasped and jumped back, brandishing their tall walking sticks at her in place of weapons. “Who are you, girl!?”

“I should be asking you!” Essi growled, narrowing her eyes at them. She squared her shoulders and stared them down, arms crossed over her chest. Still she recalled her martial arts training, which she had privately kept up, eventually joining a MMA club that met monthly, and she stayed ready in case these two strangers had ill intentions. “Who invited you onto my land?”

“Your land, my dear? We are in the wilds!” The taller fellow chuckled. “I’m afraid you’re quite confused.” 

Essi snorted and scoffed, “No, this is my land where I have buried my mother and her—” she cut off when she had turned and saw the grave markers were gone. “What the— where are they!?”

“I think we f-f-found the one we were l-looking for, my friend.”

“Indeed. I expected something different, though.”

Essi left them to pace around the rowan, coming back with wide eyes and a hard set jaw. “Explain. NOW.”

“Well, child, you see you’re not where you believed yourself to be.” The taller man said, leaning on his staff while his short friend fetched up his hat and drained it of water. 

Glancing around her, Essi could see that the landscape had indeed changed and her house was gone, and the fields were gone, instead there were open hills and forests. It was as though the farm no longer existed. Steel eyes snapped back to the two men and she glared, arching one pale brow to encourage answers. “Who are you, and where are we? What happened? Explain!”

The men exchanged glances and both motioned for her to come sit by them on a large log laying in the unkempt grasses. She cautiously moved to sit at the far end of it, and the tall man began. “I am Alintar, and this is my friend Berdunn. We were sent here to find a lost child of Aüle.” 

“Eh?”

“We’ll explain th-that in a b-b-bit, just listen,” the shorter one, Berdunn, told her with a stutter, setting his somewhat soggy hat back upon his grayed head. Water trickled down his crooked nose. 

Alintar continued, “Tell me, do you know who your father was?”

Essi shuffled her feet and shook her head. “No… my mother would not tell me. She… she told me some fairy tale. She was very superstitious and believed in that nonsense.” Not that Essi had ever called it that in front of her mother. She had respect for the woman who raised her and loved her. “She said he came to her, in a dream, that she had crossed into his world somehow and the two fell in love. It happened so fast, with such passion, and that she never found him again. She says I favor him, she was very dark haired and brown eyed.” Essi frowned, not sure why she had ventured so much information to men she didn’t know. 

“I see.” Alintar nodded, bringing out a pipe from his robes and lighting it, though Essi didn’t see how. “You see my dear, your father was Aüle, or rather, Ilmarinen.” He saw her attention turn to him then and he chuckled. “You know that name then?”

“Yes…, äiti, mother, mentioned it a few times. He… he was the god of the smiths.” Essi watched the two men skeptically. “You can’t really think I’m the child of a god.”

“Oh b-but you are!” Berdunn insisted eagerly, “D-Don’t you feel it? In your heart?”

Essi snorted, shaking her head. “I’ve fallen out of the tree, haven’t I? Äiti always said I would…”

Alintar leaned in closer to her, reaching over and drawing her face towards him with more strength than he seemed capable of. “It’s been sealed away… her heart that is. Look Berdunn.”

The shorter man scooted around his companion and peered into the startled eyes of the woman. “Oh! Oh dear! W-What shall we do!?”

“We shall do what we can, Berdunn.” Alintar sighed. He shook his head as he released her chin, leaning back to puff contemplatively upon his pipe. 

“Wait… so what do you mean?” Essi couldn’t help but ask. Even if it was a dream, or if she was in some strange coma, she was still awfully curious. 

Alintar looked over at her with his sky blue eyes. “What we mean, child,”

“Esteri. Or Essi.”

“Essi,” Alintar nodded, “is that you are the product of the smith god, Aüle, or Ilmarinen as he is called where you hail from, and your mortal mother. Or perhaps even a child of his avatar upon your world. It would be the same outcome either way. Gods are not so set in stone as mortals like to believe. Their essence moves from one realm to another, manifesting in different forms. And you are the child of one. It seems the world from which you come was unsuited to that sort of power a Demi-god would create, and your power was thus sealed from you. It would take some powerful magic to undo that. However, that is not what we have come here about.”

“And that would be?”

“Oh, all in good time, but I regret to inform you, that returning to your own world is quite impossible now, Essi.”

“Of course it is,” she scoffed, still adamant this was a dream. Wasn’t that the key to lucid dreaming? Knowing it was a dream? She stood up and walked away from them for a moment. “Alright, let’s do this. What do I need to do?”

“For now, nothing,” Alintar watched her. “You have time to settle in and adjust to life here.” He eyed her clothes, jeans, hiking boots, and a t-shirt with a red cat head silhouette on it. “Actually, first we should help you blend in…” He twirled the end of his beard with a chuckle. 

Essi looked down at her clothes and back up at the two men, confused and mildly offended. “What?”

 

______________________________

 

Two Years Later

“Alintar! Slow down! For Eru’s sake…” Essi grunted from the back of her stallion. They had left Rohan months ago, but they had been pushing hard to get somewhere that her two blue clad companions had yet to inform her of. “ALIN!”

Berdunn chuckled, looking up at the taller wizard. “You know s-she won’t stop.”

Alintar sighted and drew the reigns on his bay, turning to look back at the woman. “Yes, Essi?”

“Where are we going?” She asked, drawing up beside him. Absently she stroked her fingertips over the horse’s neck. “Why won’t you tell me?” 

The tall wizard sighed, not at all surprised to hear Berdunn chuckling. “We go to meet a friend. Now relax.” He urged his mount forward, and on they went. This continued for days, and Essi’s training continued. They insisted she study lore, magical theory, and combat. After a few lessons, early on, to help her understand the few differences in flora and fauna, they found she could survive well on her own, as far as procuring necessities. And a few orc attacks early on had convinced Essi that this was no dream, and had left her with a couple of hard earned battle scars, and a better adapted fight or flight response. She had spent the time since her discovery that this was no dream, hardening herself, working to strengthen her ability to survive in this harsh world. The fact that she had not been raised in a soft plush life worked in her favor. Never had her mother allowed her to go hungry, and this drove Essi to keep her own stomach filled. From time to time she and the wizards drifted apart, but she adapted to life in Middle Earth. In fact, she had begun to enjoy it, finding new challenges compared to her life before. 

What she didn’t enjoy was the mysterious actions of the two blue clad men. Nor the fact that they practically abandoned her with only the whimsical directions to find their comrade, Gandalf, near Bree. She had the vague idea they were headed east once more, as they did tend to stay in that general area the most. 

It was then that, with a letter of introduction in a language she had yet to learn there, Essi headed towards Bree. Night was beginning to fall when she realized she wouldn’t make it that day, and would have to camp for the night. Being this near Bree she didn’t think she would have any trouble with orcs or their ilk. Rangers patrolled these lands and it was rare that travelers were attacked anymore. And as this thought crossed her mind, she noticed a brightness over the rise of the sloping hill she was on. Leading her stallion up, she was happy to see a campfire ahead. “Hail, camp!” She called before approaching, seeing a figure rise. The glint of a blade was of no surprise, and she drew her mount to a stop at a distance. “Peace! I come only to share your fire!”

“Then come, stranger.” The figure spoke in a low rumbling voice. Though whomever it was kept their blade drawn. 

Essi urges the stallion to trot over and she swung off her horse, patting his neck before she turned to see whose fire she sought to share. “I thank you. I’m Esteri, and I am cold and wet.” The rains had drizzled out hours ago, but it had not been warm enough to dry her. 

“Thorin, at your service.” The dwarf, for she could see now that was what her benefactor was, bowed and sheathed his blade. “What is a woman doing traveling alone?”

Chuckling, Essi approached the fire, holding her hands out to warm them, her fingers tingling almost instantly as warmth crept back into them. “It’s been many years that I’ve been on my own, Master Dwarf. And before you ask, I’m no ranger, either.” She shivered and scooted closer to the warmth, looking up to see her stallion had gone over to the dwarf’s pony. “Just on my way to Bree to meet with someone.”

Thorin nodded, watching her, listening to her tale. “I too am traveling that way.” He let his gaze sweep over her pale blonde hair, brighter than the finest of golds, and the weathered skin and freckles upon her cheeks. She was not as delicate as many women he had seen, nor then was she as weighty as some, and he could see weapons on her. Perhaps not a ranger, but she was accustomed to travel. He looked at his little cook pot, “I was about to make something for supper.”

“Oh! I still have some jerky!” Essi turned and trotted over to her saddlebags and brought out the dried meat. 

“Jerky?”

“Ah, dried meat.” She brought it over to him, along with a little bunch of wild onions she had come across yesterday, “if we start simmering it now, it should be alright.” Standing in front of him, she looked into his face. 

Thorin raised his gaze to hers and nodded, a smile crossing his features. She was willingly sharing her traveling rations, he realized he could manage to be polite. “Thank you, then.” And the two set about to making a passable meal, while lightly discussing road conditions. 

Once they were sitting down with bowls of food, Thorin turned to study this strange woman. “Esteri, that’s an unusual name.”

“To some.”

He chuckled at her response and the wry grin that accompanied it. He should have expected that, she did seem quite sharp witted. “From where do you—”

“Nope.” Essi cut him off, an apologetic look on her face. “I don’t come from anywhere. Born on the road somewhere between Rohan and Gondor.” It was the lie the two blue wizards had come up with for her. “My father was a tanner, my mother a seamstress, they moved from place to place, rarely settling down. So… I come from nowhere and that’s usually where I’m destined.” 

Raising a brow, Thorin looked at her for a long moment, letting his gaze drift to her clothes. He could see they were well made, but had seen better days and many repairs. “What sort of life is that for a woman? You should be settled down with your husband!”

Hearing that, Essi couldn’t resist a chance to have a little fun. “Are you offering?” And she laughed when he choked on his next bite. “I jest, I jest!” She giggled and reclined on her elbows. “It was too good of a moment to miss, you have to admit that.”

“Aye,” he wiped his chin and turned a smirk on her, shaking his head. Just what he needed, a practical joker. Hadn’t he left his nephews behind not long ago!? “Witty woman. So tell me, then, how some man hasn’t come to claim you?”

“None have bested my sword.” Essi replied with mischief in her eyes.

Thorin couldn’t decide if she was joking or not. He arched a brow and turned to face her, head canting just slightly. He raised his hand to indicate the scar on her chin, “it looks like someone nearly did.”

Essi reached up and ran her fingertips over it. “Well, for one he didn’t best me, and for another, I wouldn’t marry an orc.” 

“You have fought orcs?”

“And goblins, and a couple wargs. Life on the road.” Essi shrugged and looked up at the stars with a smile. “Look, it’s starting to clear.”

Thorin lifted his chin to look up at her bidding, and couldn’t help but smile as well, mostly because he was glad to see the end of the rain, though he doubted it would last, it was the rainy season. “So it has.” He turned to her to see her studying the stars with bright eyes. “You like the stars, then?”

“My mother named me for them. Esteri means star.” Essi looked over at him, amazed how his eyes seemed to reflect the starlight above. What a strange thought… “Essi for short though.”

“Essi… it’s…”

“Cute, right?” She winked at him. 

He chuckled and nodded in agreement. “Quite.”

“Well, Master Dwarf, I’m going to get some sleep.” She rose and grabbed her bedroll, laying it out to one side of the fire. 

“Sleep well, Miss Essi.” Thorin nodded, watching her. He stayed awake, sorting through his thoughts and the strange feeling in his stomach. What was going on? He couldn’t stop the way his gaze drifted back to her, again and again, long after she had fallen asleep. Why was wrong with him? Sighing, he cleaned up from their meal and laid down to sleep across the fire from her. His last sight was her sleeping face. 

When he woke there was no sign of her, only a note, and he looked around to see if he could see her down the road yet. But she was gone. Picking up the note he read it over. 

Thorin,

Thank you for sharing your camp. I appreciate it greatly, but I need to get on the road before I miss my chance to meet my contact, I’ve spent too much time on the road as is. I do hope our paths cross again. Be safe. 

Your friend,  
Essi

He read it twice before folding it and tucking it into his shirt. What a strange woman. But, she plagued his thoughts for the rest of the trip to Bree, even when the rains began to fall once more. It was not until he sat opposite the gray wizard did he push those thoughts from his mind. 

But fate would have them meet again, in the coming months...


	2. Meetings of Dwarves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Essi meets the dwarves.

“Excuse me, Sir?” Essi cautiously approached a tall man in grey, wearing a broad brimmed hat. He fit every description that the blue wizards had given her. 

The man turned, feeling a gentle tap on his shoulder, and he found himself looking into the face of what he took to be a lovely ranger woman. “Oh, may I help you?”

“You are Gandalf, am I right?” She asked him, sounding rather certain of herself. Shifting her weight back she reached into her coat pocket, grasping the letter and drawing it out. 

“I am many things, young lady, but one of which is Gandalf.” He spotted the letter and quickly assumed her to be a courier then. “Ah, you’ve a letter for me.”

“Yes, to start.” She handed it to him with a wry grin and waited as he read the short letter. His hat covered much of his face when he looked down, but she watched the rest of him. At first he stood rather relaxed, but she imagined the way his weight rocked slightly forward and he huffed softly, he had recognized the hand in which the letter was written. Then his grip on his staff changed, he adjusted the fit of the worn wood against his palm. He must be realizing what the letter meant. Essi was smiling politely when he lifted his head to peer at her under bushy brows. “Hello.”

“Hello indeed, my dear.” There was a brief whirl of emotions on his face as he processed how best to deal with this new turn of fate, before he grinned. “Well then, Esteri Kivi, it is a pleasure to meet you. And the timing is fortuitous. I have just set into motion a great adventure that I believe you are to play a part in. Fantastic. Now, I have some trifling matters to tend to before we begin, that ah… well… hm.” He frowned then, eyeing her up and down. 

“If you’d rather I wait, I can do that.” Essi assured him. “I need to find some work and earn coin anyway.”

“I’m sure you could do that here, in Bree.” Gandalf nodded. “Yes, I must make haste if I am to not be delayed, and I will meet you here, in a couple of months. Agreeable?”

Essi nodded, “Yes.”

Gandalf smiles, liking that she wasn’t put out. “Quite sorry to do this to you and all.”

“I’m rather used to wizards by now. Don’t worry about it. And I shall see you when your task is complete then. Now, could you direct me to a decent inn?”

After he had done so, and they had sorted out details of when and where to meet, Gandalf went on his way, and Essi checked herself into a room. She paid for a bath and a hot meal, eating while the water was carried up by the large stablehand. Once she had sequestered herself privately in her rented room, she was quick to strip and bathe, scrubbing the travel dirt off of herself. Then she slipped her spare tunic on, combing out her hair. Washing her dirty clothes in the bath water, she hung them to dry on a simple line in the corner of the room. There was a window, and from it she could see the street. One of the things she spotted was the dwarf she had met on the road, and she thought about calling to him, but he might want to see her or talk, and she only had the one spare tunic and her only trousers were drying. Best to wait. 

Going back to the simple bed in the room, she stretched out, grunting at a few still sore muscles not entirely soothed by her bath. Absently she rubbed her hip, the old ache from falling during a fight and sliding down a steep cliff reminding her that she had to take care of herself better. She kneaded the muscles until they gave way to give her some relief, then pulled the thin coverlet over herself for a quick nap while she had time. 

It was still daylight when she woke, but her clothes were dry. Getting dressed completely, she grabbed what things she needed and locked her room. Then she bound down the stairs and out of the inn. The hardest part of her day would be to secure paying work that wasn’t too tedious for her. She asked around, until she had gotten quite near Hobbiton before she found work. A smith, who made nothing more than kitchenwares really, finally took her in when her insisting got the better of him. She demonstrated her skills, that she had picked up during her life before, and honed during her two years here, and he allowed her to stay, carving handles for knives and the like. 

His name was Gillespie, and he was three quarters hobbit, of which he was very proud. He was a quarter dwarf, she found out some weeks later. His grandfather hailed from the Blue Mountains. It had been quite the scandal apparently. He did have a sturdy frame, and he stood a few inches taller than most hobbits. But he was still a gentle soul and kindly to her. So they got along quite well, especially as she was quick and skillful with her carvings. He especially liked the little willow branches and rosebuds she would carve into them. His had always been simple and plain, his skill better suited for the blades. So with this little touch he saw a boost in his sales, and paid her well for her work.

She did not see the dwarf she had met again, though often her thoughts drifted back to his distinct features and his gemstone blue eyes. Very suitable for a dwarf, she thought, gemstone eyes. Chuckling, she turned back to the cherry wood handle she was shaping. Carefully she detailed the soft curve of petals in the wood, letting the grain speak to her. 

“You’re doing it again, my girl!” Gillespie crowed from where he sat, rocking in his chair and puffing on his pipe. 

Essi’s cheeks burned and she refused to look up at him. Sniffing indignantly, she turned the wood over in her hands. “I don’t have the slightest clue what you’re talking about, you crazy badger!” She hadn’t, at first, known hobbits lives in holes in the ground and had quickly dubbed Gillespie her favorite badger. At first he had been offended, but soon realized her playful teasing was just that. And now he took it as almost an endearment. Almost. “Perhaps you are getting old, might need your eyes seen to!”

“Oh nonsense! I can see quite well your pretty pink cheeks! Who’s the lad that’s caught your eye? Tallbottom’s elder son?” 

“That boor!?” Essi wrinkled her nose and looked up at the hobbit. “Not a chance! I’d rather trip him into a horse trough! Did you know he tried to cop a feel of my rump?”

“Oh-ho! Did he now? Tell his mother and she’ll box his ears right smart!” Gillespie cackled. 

The woman looked up and snorted. “Even I wouldn’t sic that temperamental woman on him. But I might let it slip to Charisse.”

Gillespie’s brows shot up when Essi mentioned the hobbitess that the lad pined for. Charisse Proudfoot took no guff about manners from anyone, even if she had a growing soft spot for the Tallbottom lad. The knife smith was glad that Essi indulged his craving for gossip, and even brought him back new tidbits when she made deliveries for him. Being as his heritage was, there was still a lot of stigma amongst the hobbits. Not that anyone brought that up when they bought up his blades! Oh no! They were in high demand. Nothing like those quickly made ones from Bree, no thank you! “Well, it’s about time you learned something useful, my girl!” Gillespie, like a more known hobbit, was a confirmed old bachelor, and he was quickly warming to having Essi in his shop, rather like a favorite niece or something of that nature. Perhaps he did regret never having started a family. “Come with me.” And he rose, motioning for her to follow, he brought her to the little forge in the back of his shop. “There are some men sized gloves and an apron on the hook there.” 

Essi grinned and hurried to grab the protective gear, pulling a leather strip from her trousers pocket to bind her hair up. She was nearly giddy to learn this new part of knife making. And the two spent the remainder of the week working on blades, Gillespie was pleased to see she was quick to learn, and understood the shaping of metals already. Whatever she had done before, in the past she would not discuss, she had an affinity for metal work. Most hobbits preferred to work the soil, tend their animals, and work gently, but knives and blades for ploughs still needed made, and the shipments from Ered Luin were expensive and not all the hobbits could afford the dwarven made tools. By the end of the week, Essi had made her first set of knives that Gillespie approved to sell, they took the skin from a soft tomato with ease and sliced a potato with little effort, and they had her ornate and sturdy handles. So he had told her to set them on the table to be sold. 

And sell they did. 

She was a little late getting to the shop one morning, and when she arrived, Gillespie was strutting like a prize rooster, grinning at her when she came in. He couldn’t even pretend to be angry with her for her tardiness. “Notice anything?”

Essi pondered him and asked a few questions about his state, only to be chided over her observation. 

“No no no! Not me! In the shop! The wares, my dense girl, the wares!” Gillespie grumbled, exasperated. He threw his hands up, shaking his curly head. 

Shifting her gaze to the sales table, Essi gasped. The knives she had made were gone, each and every one! “My knives! Did they sell!?”

“First thing this morning!” Gillespie crowed, grinning and winking at her. “As a wedding present no less!” Not only had someone purchased the set of kitchen knives she had made, but they had been intended to give to another. As a craftsman, Gillespie knew this was high praise of the work. 

Essie grinned, feeling quite proud and she bit back a squeal of delight, dropping down to pull her mentor into a firm embrace. “I did it! I did!”

Gillespie chuckled and patted her shoulder as he returned her embrace fondly. “Yes, my child, you did.” And he was twice as proud as he sounded. “I know you said you are staying here for only a while, but if you ever want to settle down with the trade… I would welcome you here, always.” 

Sitting back, Essi smiled, rather fondly. “I appreciate that. Perhaps I will come back, but it’s… it’s hard to say. There are many dangers on the road.” Absently she rubbed the scar on her chin, “I do not know what lays ahead of me. Should I be able, I will gladly return.”

Warmed by her words, Gillespie had to turn away to light his pipe, if only to hide his misty eyes. After a minute he grinned, “Of course, if you happen to meet a lovely young man who makes your heart flutter, then don’t you worry about Ol’ Gilly.”

“Gill!” Essi laughed and the two started their day. Gillespie took her aside after a lunch and showed her some techniques his grandfather had taught him, how to forge simple weapons, and the differences between cutlery forging and weaponsmithing, though he had little call for it, aside from a rare request for arrowheads. But he thought it might do her good to at least know. She sequestered herself at the forge for the afternoon and soon had crafted herself a simplistic dagger. She spent the better part of the rest of the month perfecting it, until she had crafted a dagger, a broken-back seax, she was pleased with, pleased enough to pay the cost of materials for and wear upon her belt. Not that she told Gillespie she had paid for it, he would have never taken her money. She simply slipped the money into his coffer at the shop. Somehow crafting her own weapon and arming herself with it made her feel more secure. She went out in Bree to find a scabbard, but none would quite fit it. So, with aid from the local leather worker, she managed to craft her own, simplistic in rough black leather and sturdy wood to brace and protect the blade, in short order she had it fitted on her back, horizontally at her hips. 

Gradually she had gathered traveling gear from merchants, either those that made their home in Bree or that were passing through. By the time Gandalf returned, two and a half months later, coming, oddly enough, from Hobbiton, she was prepared to hit the road. She saw him at the livery stable, and approached. “Well, about time you showed up again.” 

“Ah! Miss Kivi! Delighted to see you again. You’re looking well!” Gandalf smiled, under no false pretense. She did seem like a fairly nice young woman. Perhaps that would make a journey with some of the most stubborn creatures on middle earth much easier. “How has Bree treated you? Did you find that work you were looking for.”

“I did, helping in the forge near Hobbiton.” 

“Really now?” Gandalf let her show him her dagger, and he gave it a look over, testing the weight and balance. “Quite nice, I would hardly believe you were a beginner!”

“It was a nice change from kitchen knives. Mostly I made the handles.” She admitted as she sheathed it. “But I enjoyed the work. Now, what are we off to do?” 

“Ah yes, do you know your way around the Shire yet, my dear?”

Essi nodded, “well enough, I did my shopping at the markets and made deliveries for Gill.”

“Do you know of Bag End?”

“Hmm… oh! Mr. Baggins’ home! Yes, I delivered him a new boning knife just last week. He let me in for tea.” She confirmed, smiling. “Nice fellow, quite respectable.”

“Ah ha! You sound like a hobbit!” The wizard was quite amused, his eyes dancing merrily as he laughed. “We will all be meeting there, if you want to go on ahead, I’m sure he would appreciate that, compared to the rest of the company. They should all be arriving by tonight.”

“Very well, I’ll get my things together and head over there.” She smiled and gave him a farewell nod before heading to the inn and getting her things. She paid her balance, biding the innkeeper’s kind wife goodbye, then fetched her stallion from the stable, and headed off to Bag End, remembering the way. Once there she saw in the small gully near it, there were two ponies already there. She must have taken longer than she should have. Still she made her way to the door and knocked. When it opened she smiled, “Mr. Baggins! Good to see you again. I see I’m not the first to arrive!” She could just see the back of a white haired dwarf walking away from the door, she had apparently come but moments after him. 

“Uh-uh… what oh, Miss Kivi, right. I uh, I didn’t order any more knives. Though I must say I’m very pleased with the one I did, and I am thinking of ordering a new filleting knife, but uh,” the poor flustered hobbit glanced from her to the two dwarves headed for his pantry, which he could barely see from the door. 

“Oh no, I’m here with them! Or for them… whichever the case may be. Though I don’t know if they know it yet.” Essi smiled and walked on in. “As nice as I remember! Such a fine place you have, Mr. Baggins!”

“Thank you…” Bilbo immediately decided a polite woman that he already knew was far less trouble than the two dwarves and he ran for the pantry. 

Essi could hear him in the other room trying to politely get the attention of the two dwarves, and she merely shook her head. Poor fellow, poor fellow indeed. There was soon another knock on the door and she called out, “I’ll get it, Mr. Baggins!” Already close by, she had but to make two steps to reach the door. There were two younger dwarves there. 

“Fíli,”

“And Kíli,” they each said before chiming together with a bow, “at your service!”

Then the darker haired Kíli asked, “isn’t this the home of Mister Boggins?”

“Baggins, master dwarf. Not Boggins. And yes, he’s dealing with others. Please do come in.” Essi smiled. “I am Esteri.”

“You don’t look like a hobbit,” Kíli said as he moved aside to let his brother strut in. He lifted his boot to wipe off the mud on what Essi knew, from her previous visit when Bilbo had caught her studying the floral scrolling design along the edges, to be his mother’s glory box. His heel had hardly touched it, when suddenly he was spun away from it, and was brought face to face with the woman. “Oi!”

“That is not for boots, young one. Politely remove the mud from your feet outside. It looks poorly upon you and your kin to dishonor your host thus,” she growled at him, giving him a not so gentle nudge toward the door. Then she turned to the lighter haired brother, who was unloading a number of weapons and she raised a brow. “Please set them down gently, huh? They look well sharpened from here, you don’t want to dull them.”

Fíli, who had almost jumped to grab her when she yanked Kíli away, only to stop with some amusement when he saw why, arched a brow. Could she truly tell that they were sharpened, or was she just assuming such? “You speak as though you know about blades.” He did set them down gently, half because what she said was true, and half because he was afraid she might fling the whole lot out the door if he scratched the furniture. 

“I spent the last couple months training with a smith, even crafted my own dagger. I’ve been working metals far longer yet.” Essi said with some pride. “He made primarily tools, but he showed me weapon forging as well. In the future I may take it up for my own craft.” 

“May I see it?” Fíli requested as his slightly cowed brother slunk back into the smial with very little mud left on his boots. 

“Fíli, Kíli! Come give us a hand!” Came a call from further in the hall. 

The boys turned and smiled, “Mr. Dwalin!”

Essi nudged Fíli’s shoulder, “Go on, you can see it later.” She went and found Bilbo, getting directions to the bathroom, to tend her needs and wash up. She was coming out when Kíli caught her attention, seeming to have forgotten their previous encounter. 

“Is that your horse outside? He’s a beauty!” The dark haired dwarf smiled, eyes alight. 

“He is.” Essi returned his smile politely. “I’m fond of him, had him for half a year now.”

“He looks well bred.”

“Ought to be, he’s Rohan stock.” Essi snorted a little. “I half expected him to get fat lazing around in Bree for so long.” She rolled her eyes. “Stable boy was so enamored with him, he gave him treats so often!”

Kíli laughed, “Lucky horse to be spoiled so! What’s his name?”

“He hasn’t got one yet,” Essi admitted sheepishly. “Nothing I’ve thought up has felt right.”

“You’ll figure it out, I’m sure.” He ducked his head a little then, “I’m sorry about before. I was, I mean, I’ve just been excited about today and…”

“It’s alright, Kíli, just keep your wits on you. Now, I smell food, let’s go eat!” The woman clapped him on the shoulder and headed towards the food. She realized there were many more dwarves in the hobbit hole now and seemed startled. 

Kíli looked at her and the others before shouting loudly, “OI! EVERYONE!” They all turned to him. “We have a lady present!” He grinned as they turned as one to face them. “Here are Dwalin, Balin, Bofur, Bifur, Bombur, there is Nori, Ori, Dori, Fíli you know, Glóin and Oin.” Each dwarf nodded or bowed as his name was said. “This is Esteri.”

She smiled, a touch shyly, not expecting to be the center of attention so suddenly. “Please, call me Essi.”

A few murmured greetings, and a couple louder politely worded ones were given and the whole lot of them went right back to their conversations. Kíli just grinned at her, “Let’s eat!”

Essi cast a glance at Gandalf, excused herself from Kíli, and skirted the table to sit beside the wizard. “Lively bunch you’ve brought.” She elbowed the wizard good naturedly and tucked into her meal. It was clear the poor hobbit was flummoxed, but she hadn’t eaten much for lunch that day, too eager to get her dagger sheath made. So she dined with nearly as much gusto as the others, but excused herself, unfortunately missing their lively little song. Slipping outside, she sighed in the cool night air and looked up at the stars. Inside she could hear the uproarious laughter from the dwarves as they sang. And she saw a figure waking up from the garden gate. “Well, hello stranger!” She called out to him. 

Thorin looked up, startled as he hadn’t seen her sitting in the shadows a moment before. He looked, at first, annoyed by something, but that faded when he saw her and a smile spread upon his face. “What fate brings our paths to crossing again?”

“A wizard. They’re troublesome like that.” Essi shrugged. “I think the rest of your company is here already.” She stood from the little patch of cool grass, stretching and walking to his side. 

“Then it was the wizard whom you came to meet before in Bree?” Thorin asked, trying to mask the edge in his tone. 

Essi heard it still, and she nodded. “Yes, I did meet him then, he asked me to wait here and then I came across him today again in Bree. Found some work there with a smith. Anyway, the wizard sent me here with little explanation. I expect he will tell us more.”

“Mm, I should like to hope. But wizards are not always forthcoming.” He studied her. She was quite the same as when he had seen her last, but there was a new mark on her brow. “Another orc proposed to you?” He taunted her, motioning to the new scar. 

Essi laughed, shaking her head. “No. Forge spark.”

He raised a brow, then turned his head to indicate a mark just below his left ear. “I’ve had a forge spark bite me as well. Think of it as a mark of honor.”

The sound of the singing inside fell into laughter, and both looked at the door. “Why don’t you go ahead. There should be supper left. I came out to clear my head, I’ll come along in a few minutes.” Essi stepped aside and walked down to the bench to sit. 

Thorin watched her go before he walked to the door and pounded on it. 

“By the Valar, Thorin! Don’t take it from its hinges!” She teased him as she stretched her legs out. Hobbit holes were not so great on space, she surmised. 

The dark haired dwarf turned to raise a brow at her, his grin flashing in the dim light before he faced the door as it opened for him. 

Watching him step inside the smial, Essi sighed and looked up at the stars. Well today had certainly gotten interesting. She closed her eyes for a second, breathing slowly to calm her nerves. Then she opened them to look at the evening view around her. The Shire was lovely, that she had known. But to see it at night it seemed extra cozy, the windows lit, sparks and smoke drifting lazily from chimneys. It was calm, peaceful, and wholesome. And for a few minutes she simply stay in silence, drawing it all in. Something told her that she would not see the likes of it for some time. Then she rose, stretched her back one more time, dreading the low doorways of the home. The ceiling was plenty high, the doors not so much. “Back at it, ol’ girl.” And in she went again. 

“You’re going on a quest?” Bilbo had just asked as the woman entered his home once more. 

Gandalf stammered for half a second then insisted, “Bilbo, my dear fellow, let us have a little more light.”

Essi took a moment to study the dwarves seated around the table, then noticed something missing. Every other dwarf had partaken of the ale, but none was near Thorin. She caught his eye and pointed questioningly to the barrel, then him. At his subtle nod and even more subtle smile, she fetched a clean and freshly washed tankard and filled it for him, slipping in to set it near Thorin’s hand. 

“Oh, Uncle, this is Esteri.” Kíli beamed. 

Thorin nodded and gave his nephew an appreciative look. “We have met before.” 

Essi saw most of the dwarves look curiously at her, but once again their conversations continued. She said nothing to them for now, instead getting herself an ale. The woman hovered on the outskirts, listening and watching. A few dwarves sent her uncertain glances, the bald Dwalin, and the fastidious Dori most of all. She was silent upon mention of the dragon, though she grimaced at Bofur’s description, sharp gaze watching poor Bilbo. 

“I'm not afraid. I'm up for it. I'll give him a taste of Dwarfish iron right up his jacksie!”

It was all she could do not to laugh, dry as it would have been, still she snorted softly, looking down into her ale. She missed the stern look Thorin cast her. She studied the liquid for a while, swirling the tankard. Off to fight a dragon, were they? She had a sinking suspicion she would be dragged into this. 

“We have a wizard in our company! Gandalf will have killed hundreds of dragons in his time!”

Essi lifted her head and watched as Gandalf sputtered and floundered. Part of her thought to aid him by speaking up, but he was likely to be the one to rope her into this. No, he could dig himself from that hole on his own. She listened still, particularly once Thorin began to speak. His voice, she decided, was too captivating for its own good. 

“If we have read these signs...do you not think others will have read them too? Rumors have begun to spread. The dragon, Smaug, has not been seen for 60 years. Eyes look east to the mountain, assessing…wondering, weighing the risk. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people  
now lies unprotected. Do we sit back while others claim  
what is rightfully ours? Or do we seize this chance to take back Erebor!?”

Essi drank deeply of her tankard. It is a fool's errand, she thought. They go their deaths! She watched them as Gandalf produced a key. Interesting coincidence, but then she had learned that wizards very seldom encountered coincidences. That plotting grey scoundrel! 

“If there is a key… there must be a door!” Kíli said, after far too much thinking. 

Essi’s head slumped in dismay and she shook it. What a genius. She lifted her head and was surprised to catch Thorin’s eye. He had a faint shimmer of a grin on his face, a sort of long-suffering patient one, and she realized he was thinking something similar. She wondered if the young dwarf had a history of such comments. That could be amusing. Her gaze left the leader of the company and she began to study each dwarf individually. Some met her gaze, Bofur kindly, Nori with a smug wink, and Balin with a gentleman’s smile. Other were skeptical, such as Glóin and Dori. Dwalin, Fíli, Bombur, and Oin didn’t meet her gaze, too focused on other things. Bilbo looked at her, seeming quite confused and she realized he was being discussed. Sipping her ale, she looked down. Better him than her. 

A loud voice bellowed in the room. “If I say Bilbo Baggins is a burglar, then a burglar he is!” Gandalf settled down as everyone quieted. And he explained then how he reasoned that Bilbo would be the best chance at aiding with the quest.

“And what of the woman?” One of the dwarves, Essi couldn’t tell, asked. 

She looked over at the table then, brows raising as she did. “Huh?”

Gandalf looked over at her. “She is… something of an apprentice of mine. She will be under my care, however I do believe she will be useful for this quest as well.”

Essi turned her head to listen to the hobbit rambling on about his contract. Evisceration. Incineration. Wonderful. 

“I cannot guarantee their safety,” Thorin said in a quieter voice to Gandalf. He noticed Essi turn her head towards them slightly, she heard him. 

“Understood.” 

Thorin continued, “Nor will I be responsible for their fates.”

“Agreed,” Gandalf nodded, seeming rather pleased with this outcome.

“Balin,” Thorin spoke to his advisor, “write up a new contract and amend the others. Esteri is coming as well.” 

Essi offered a faint smile, but a thump from behind her shoulder drew her attention. 

“Oh, very helpful, Bofur.” Gandalf muttered, looking at the fainted hobbit. 

Essi chuckled and looked over at Bofur. “Okay you did it, go put the poor guy on a sofa,” she pointed to a sitting room down the hall. 

Bofur gave her a sheepish smile and hurried to do just that. He did seem willing to lend a hand where he could. 

Taking her empty tankard into the kitchen to wash, Essi turned her head when she heard footsteps. “I did hope we would meet again, but I did not expect this.” Finished washing she turned to face Thorin. 

“You did not mention you were a sorceress.” He canted his head, a smile on his lips and amusement in his eyes.

“You did not tell me you were a king.” Essi countered with a smug grin. “But I am no sorceress.”

“A king without a kingdom.” Thorin let his gaze drop, the deep ache in his heart noticeable in his words. 

“Thorin, a king is a leader of his people. Not an ornament upon the land.” She assured him, her expression softening. 

Thorin raised his head to look up at her under heavy brows. “If that were so, then my kin would have come, we would have an army.”

“Do not be so sure you won’t. As I understand there is a gem there that signifies your position. Once we rescue that, I have no doubt the rest of your kin will rally to you. You must forgive them, a dragon is a daunting opponent to any, especially one that already has a taste for dwarf.”

Thorin grimaced. “Aye, the wyrm does at that.”

“Take heart, with luck we shall see this quest through and be rid of that fat old slug once more. I may not be a dwarf, but I have no doubt once that dragon grows complacent he will seek out more destruction.” Essi placed her hand on his shoulder. “I will see him destroyed, for the sake of Arda.” Then her eyes twinkled with amusement, “besides, it would be amusing to see my camp friend upon his throne. I may still have to tease you about sleeping in a mud puddle.”

“I missed it!” Thorin objected, recalling how, when first they met he had nearly placed his bedroll in a puddle. He had snatched it up at the last second, hoping she had been asleep and hadn’t seen it. Now he knew otherwise. “Do you plan to torment me the entire trip?”

“Someone must!” She flashed him a grin and stepped out. 

Thorin started after her and slowly shook his head. “Mahal save me…”


	3. Second Star to the Right

Essi went to check on her supplies, securing everything in her pack to be ready to leave first thing in the morning. She imagined the dwarves would not like to linger long. After all, they had already devastated Bilbo’s pantry. She set it by the door, near some of the dwarves’ packs already there when Balin found her with her contract. “Ready for me to sign?”

“Quite. Though, I must ask, are you certain of this? It is quite unheard of to have a woman—”

“Master Balin,” Essi cut him off with as gentle a tone as she could, not wishing to offend him. She reached out to take the contract and quill. “I assure you, I’m both capable and prepared.” She eyed the contract, seeing her roll listed as “general aid”. That was acceptable, and she quickly signed it before the quill dried. 

“Esteri… Kivi?” Balin asked curiously, her writing was not the neatest he has seen. Though it was not the worst. That distinction still belonged to Dwalin, much to Balin’s chagrin. 

“Yes, surprisingly enough my family name means ‘stone’,” she smiled and nodded. “Everything is set, right?”

“Aye. I’ll put this in the case with the rest, you should get some sleep.” He smiled kindly, and folded up her contract to stow with his gear, and the other recently amended contracts. They now had to split the treasure fifteen ways. Not a great loss considering the vast wealth of Erebor. 

“You too,” she advised with a kind smile, “we have a long journey ahead.”

“And I do not eagerly anticipate the ground we will sleep on in the future!” Balin agreed with a chuckle. He knew his age, but his determination and loyalty to Thorin drove him on anyway. 

Essi watched him go and she turned to go sit by the fireplace. It would be warm there. Most of the chairs were taken and she curled up near the hearth, sighing as she relaxed in the warmth. She saw Balin join them a minute or so later. Glancing up she watched Thorin’s face as he stared into the fire, utterly transfixed by it. He had seen his home land burn, she imagined that the sight stirred memories. Fire was unavoidable in this time, though. What an awful thing to haunt him. As she thought she realized at some point the dwarves began humming, Thorin loudest of all. Soon the humming gave way to him singing. 

“Far over the misty mountains cold, through dungeons deep and caverns old. We must away, ‘ere break of day, to find our long-forgotten gold.”

Essi couldn’t tear her gaze away from Thorin, it took some time before she realized she was staring at him, though his attention was still upon the flames in the hearth. She felt a strange stirring, beginning in her gut that left her heart aching in a melancholy nostalgia, for a place she had never even seen, and had hardly heard of before. But it swelled within her strongly all the same. 

“The pines were roaring, on the height. The winds were moaning in the night.”

She realized the others were joining in with the lyrics. And she looked around slowly at the others. It was as though the song itself echoed deep into her bones, saturating her whole form, all the way to her soul. 

“The fire was red, it flaming spread, the trees like torches blazed with light…”

Her skin prickled and she shuddered, hugging her knees to her chest. What was this sensation? What was this depth of emotion? She had never felt anything like this in her life. One hand raised to her cheek at a strange sensation there, surprised to find a tear had rolled down her skin. She hadn’t cried since she was a child! Not even at her own mother’s funeral!

There were a few more verses of the song, but Essi wasn’t focused upon the words. Instead her gaze studied the faces of her soon to be companions. They all appeared so reverent, sincere and haunted. When the song ended she let out a shaking breath and looked up when she felt a touch upon her shoulder. Seeing Thorin looking down at her with a steady gaze, she returned it, giving him a slow nod. She would see her promise fulfilled. She must. 

“Try not to sleep there,” he cautioned. “We can’t have you falling into the fire. It would be a shame to lose on of our number before we even begin our journey.”

Essi pursed her lips and stood up. “Get some rest yourself, I’ve no doubt you’re anxious.” And, with a faint bow, she slipped away to ask Bilbo where she might retire. 

The hobbit seemed distracted as he looked up. “Hm? Oh… there’s a guest room down at the end of the hall, to the right.” In many years time it would be Frodo’s room, not that he had any indication of such events to come. He found he appreciated that she had asked where she could stay, instead of simply claiming a piece of furniture or space upon the floor as the dwarves were doing. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Mr. Baggins.”

“Please, call me Bilbo.” He smiled at her, “all of this matter aside, I would like to think us friends.”

“Of course, and do call me Essi.” With a smile she headed off to get some sleep, though the song haunted her in her dreams, she found suitable rest anyway. The bed was small, large for hobbit standards but just a touch too short for her to stretch out upon. She curled on her side and was soon fast asleep. In fact, she slept so long she had to be awoken. Which was rarely an easy feat when she managed to sleep so deeply. 

“Essi. Essi!” Thorin was amazed she could sleep so well. “Esteri!” He gave her shoulder a rough shake. “It’s morning!”

Essi bolted up, startled by waking in such a way, and looked around her with wide eyes. “Morning! Time to go! Am I late!?” She jumped up from the bed, having slept in her clothes, so quickly she struck her head on the ceiling. “Oh!” Her hand clapped to where a dull pain spread on her skull. 

Watching her, the dwarf king shook his head slowly in dismay. “No, you are not late. Assuming you don’t knock yourself unconscious before you can accompany us.”

Rubbing her sore head, Essi scowled at him. “Hobbits and their tiny homes!” She hissed, then straightened more cautiously, “Thank you, for waking me.”

“Of course, I can’t leave my personal pest behind now can I?” Thorin teased with a smug look. 

Wordlessly working her mouth, Essi was shocked. She gathered her wits again and laughed. “If you don’t mind, Your Majesty, it is my job to pester you!” And she lightly poked his shoulder. “I shall not be usurped by my victim!”

“If you cannot take a jest yourself, you’ve no right to be aiming them at others,” he retorted with a raise of one brow, solid as a stone beneath her prodding finger. “Come, a light breakfast is being made before we go.” And he turned and walked out of the room, leaving Essi in his wake, flabbergasted and uncertain. Which left him feeling quite confident he could handle her during this journey. 

Standing with her jaw open, Essi stared after Thorin with amazement. So that was how it would be then. She shook her head and quickly made the bed again, for politeness’ sake, before ducking out of the door to find breakfast. There were enough eggs and toast left for an early meal, it seemed, and Bombur could do quite well with a little bit of leftover herbs. Essi was handed a deliciously aromatic plate before she had really had a chance to take stock of everything, and she smiled gratefully while she sat to eat. “This is delicious, Master Bombur!”

The dwarf smiled at her and nodded shyly. He finished cooking for everyone and sat at the table, to eat for himself finally. Sadly there were no leftovers for him to polish off after this meal. By the time he had finished, the dishes were being washed by his brother and cousin and they had the place back to spotless before the company began to pack up and head out to their mounts. 

Essi grabber her pack and took it out to her yet nameless stallion. He was antsy, and she gave him a rub down while the others were getting ready. “Are we waiting for the hobbit?” She asked when Thorin passed by her on his way to his own pony. 

Thorin looked surprised by her question for a moment, coming to a quick stop before he turned his head, thick mane of hair billowing in the early morning breeze. “The hobbit will not come. We would waste our precious time waiting. We head out.” He paused to look at her horse, eyes roving over him, and he reached up to lay his broad palm on the stallion’s flank. “A fine horse, how came you by him?”

“I did a favor for a breeder in Rohan.” Essi smiled. “More on accident than anything.”

“Oh?” The dwarf queried, curious what a lone woman could do to gain such a fine nearly black stallion. Rohan did not easily part with fine stock. 

“His wife went into labor while she was alone, he had gone out to see about new stock. The babe was a month early, but as I understand it, babies have their own schedules.” Essi shrugged. “I happened to be passing by and hear her cry out. There was no one around that I could see, so I went in and aided her. Never helped deliver a baby before. Well, puppies when I was a child, but that was all.”

“Fíli was almost a month late. I thought my sister was going to bring the mountain down with her temper. Babies certainly have their own time.” Thorin chuckled, then motioned again to the horse. “He’s sturdy but he looks fast. Very good for the journey to come.”

“Yes, he’s kept me ahead of an orc or two.” Essi agreed. She noticed the others were adroitly trying to listen in, having finished getting ready to leave. “They are waiting on us.”

Thorin’s brows quirked subtly, and he gave the woman a faint smile and nod, going to his own pony and swinging himself into the saddle. Seeing Essi and the others in theirs, he gave them a quick studying look before his expression shifted to something of an inspirational grin. “My kin, and our friends,” his gaze swept over them all. “Let us begin this journey, may it be swift and safe, with Mahal’s blessing.” And amidst a number of murmurs of agreement, he urged his pony forward and they picked their way through the hobbit roads until they were out of the Shire. 

Essi fell in line somewhere in the middle of the group, a little ways ahead of Gandalf. Nori was at her side. 

“He’ll never show.” Nori said as they rode, seeing Essi glancing back towards the Shire, expecting she was looking for Bilbo.

“He’s coming.” She said with a sure tone. The woman turned forward and nodded, “I know it.”

“Would you place money on that?” 

Essi’s head whipped around to look at Nori and she chuckled. “Certainly! I’ll place my bet on Bilbo any day.” They settled a number, and Essi took a few more bets from the others, still feeling very confident in their burglar. And, some tedious half hour later, when she heard the voice shouting behind them, she grinned openly at Nori, not missing his scowl. In fact it made her smile all the more. 

“You don’t have to look so happy about winning!” Nori grumbled. 

“No, I don’t have to.” She agreed smugly, accepting the coin from him once Bilbo was seated on the horse, and two more small pouches from others. Adding them to her purse already, she looked ahead to see Thorin watching her. She winked at him and kept riding.

And riding. And riding. 

Eventually the dense trees gave way to a wide meadow, some time after a switchback trail. She felt her steed getting more anxious, and he tossed his head and pranced beneath her. She pushed him ahead and came up to Thorin’s side. “Would you mind if I let him get some running in? He’s not quite so docile as the ponies and he’s been cooped up in Bree for months.”

“These are still safe lands, you may. However, do not get too far away.” The king answered after giving their surroundings a brief survey. 

“I’ll try not to.” Essi turned her stallion aside, circling back to the flat road behind the others. She let them get ahead a ways before she let her horse have his way. Before she knew it, they were flying. She grinned as they passed Thorin, causing his pony to jump to the side. Her laugh trailed after her, and once they had passed the others she held her seat with her legs, lifting her arms and spreading them to feel the wind. 

Thorin watched as Essi and her horse blew by them, almost calling out to chastise her, but then he heard her laugh and he saw the stallion barreling on. They were having fun, and hurting none. So he watched her, her pale golden curls following her like a flag. She looked so free and happy, much like her beast below her. He followed her path with his gaze as she raced about, turning and circling the meadow. The pair jumped a log with precise skill, then to his surprise they leaped the stream, and back again. To her credit, she did not get too far from them, guiding the stallion to circle them, switching back and forth across the stream and the side of the company she rode on. 

Once she felt her horse had gotten his cabin fever out, she worked him down until he had reached a trot without fear of straining something. And she returned to Thorin’s side. “Thank you.”

“You ride well,” he complimented. “Quite the pair you are.”

“We are. I wish I could find a good name for him.” Essi affectionately stroked the stallion’s neck. “He deserves one. But I… I can’t find one that suits him. Y’know?”

“Mmm I had the very same trouble when I was young, my father had given me my first pony. A beautiful mare. I rode her daily, and loved her. I spent hours in the stables. It took me three months to finally name her.”

“And?”

Thorin raised a brow. 

Essi sighed, aggravatedly, he knew what she meant, “What did you name her?”

“Mithril. She was a pale grey with a white mane, and matching tail.” Thorin answered. “And she was with me until the end of her days. Though I surely spoiled her the last few years.”

“Sounds to me she had earned it.” Essi looked down at her horse again. “I thought about Obsidian… but it seems pretentious. Plus he’s not entirely black coated.”

“Well, even so, he is a fine creature,” Thorin countered. 

“Exactly!” Essi exclaimed. “He doesn’t need any more ego!” She was startled then when the dwarf king laughed, a real and deep rumbling laugh, her statement had caught him off guard. She couldn’t help but smile at him, and his reaction. 

Shaking his head, Thorin glanced at her before he let his gaze drop to the poor nameless horse. Obsidian wasn’t a bad choice, but he could see how it wasn’t the right one. “I’m sure it will come to you. If not, there may be others with ideas.”

She grinned at him, “And that is basically what your nephew said. I’d say great minds think alike, but we both heard him last night.”

Thorin has to bite down on a laugh. “He is young. His wit will sharpen given time.”

“Then he can be like his uncle,” Essi saw Thorin’s chin raise, and she expected his ego matched. “The one who gets lost twice in the Shire.”

Turning a sharp look upon the woman, Thorin scowled at her. “I cannot wish any harder that you had not heard that. It only arms your witty tongue!” He might have been angry with her, if it wasn’t for that grin. She looked so bright and pleased with herself. He rolled his eyes and let her have that one. “And I suppose you are without imperfections?”

“If you want to believe that, feel free.” Essi winked at him and laughed. “But of course it wouldn’t be true.” She turned her head when she heard a pony drawing up near them and she saw Fíli had worked his way to the front. 

“Essi, show me!” He requested impatiently, knowing she would understand what he was asking. He guided his pony into walking between the woman’s horse and his uncle’s pony, looking up at her expectantly. 

And understand she did, but that didn’t make her readily compliant. “Fíli!” She gasped, looking shocked, “We hardly know each other, and in front of your uncle no less!”

Thorin was already learning to detect the playfulness in her voice and he felt his lips quirk at her jest. Of course the unprepared Fíli made it only that much better. 

“What!?” Usually level headed, Fíli was caught off guard. “No I didn’t mean— oh very funny!” Mid sentence into defending himself, he saw her grin and shook his head. Glancing at his uncle, he saw, too, that Thorin was smirking. “I meant your dagger, you know that!” Just what they needed. Another Kíli. 

Essi reached back and drew the long dagger out, passing it to Fíli, “Well, since you asked so nicely.”

Mustache braids twitched when he forced a polite grin, instead of rolling his eyes like he wanted to. “Thank you,” he replied pointedly. Then he went to studying the dagger. “Huh, it is sturdy, and well balanced, though I wouldn’t like it for throwing.”

“More of a utility blade, really.” Essi assured him.

“What is carved into the hilt?” The blonde prince asked. 

Essi chuckled a little and shrugged one shoulder. “It’s a pattern that was painted on my mother’s nicest plates. I remember them, she only had one cup left, my cousins and I were a little rambunctious inside the house. I always thought it was pretty. It’s an old design that was used in books for borders on decorative pages as well.”

Thorin reached over to take the dagger from Fíli, also wanting to have a look at it. “So you designed it for the smith then?” He turned it in his hands. While it wasn’t poorly made, it was the work of a promising amateur. Hopefully she had not been swindled. 

“Not at all, Uncle, she forged it herself!” Fíli sounded quite proud of that. “Our resident woman is an aspiring blacksmith.”

Raising his brows, Thorin looked over at the two of them, then back to the dagger with more understanding. “It’s a different style of blade than what I have seen made by most men, but I can see how it is useful. Perhaps someday you will show me how you designed it.”

“I would be honored.” Essi accepted her blade back and sheathed it again. “It was the first one that I’ve made that I kept. There were a few practice ones that I’m sure have been melted down by now. Hopefully.”

“We all start somewhere.” Fíli assured her. “It’s good, for a beginner. If you do get a chance to take up the trade I’m sure you’ll do fine.” He thanked her for letting him see it, then dropped back to ride with his brother again and the journey continued. 

Aside from her sometimes teasing nature, Thorin found Essi was not one for tedious small talk, and was happy to ride in companionable silence, speaking when something of importance came up. She had questions about the path they would take, some places she had not been before, and they spoke of matters like that. He appreciated that she wasn’t prone to the idle gossip chatter many of the dwarrowdams he had known in court enjoyed. He could see she kept a sharp gaze on their path and their surroundings, which he thought commendable. If it must be that they brought this woman as Gandalf had insisted, they were lucky she was neither fool headed nor naive. And from what he was brought to understand, she could hold her own in combat. That would remain to be seen, of course. He knew better than to trust words over actions. 

Night fell before they had left the peaceful lands, and Thorin called for the company to stop. Lunch had been a quick affair, a few loaves of bread, some cheese, a couple of boiled eggs a piece, things that would not last the rest of the journey. Most of it had been distributed horseback, and eaten as they travelled. There had been a quick break to water their ponies and Essi’s horse, and fill their water skins. As peaceful as the area was, Thorin was eager to get moving. So immediately a fire was started and the making of supper began. 

Unpacking her bedroll, and a small bag of necessities, Essi set them near camp and tied her nameless horse near the ponies. She found the brush in the bags and gave him a quick brush down, running her hand over the smoothed coat after. Coming to the white blaze on his forehead, the rest of him a shiny black, save for three white stockings, the one in front a good half foot shorter, she smiled and kissed his nose. “That was a good run today. Sorry we couldn’t do more back in Bree. But you’ll get tired of me from this point on.”

The dwarves could see her, and many seemed amused by her care. Most approved. The king himself felt a stirring and he had the sudden desire to do something, though he didn’t know what, but it definitely concerned the woman. As he watched her finish tending to the stallion before she went to set out her bedroll and help with camp, a thought struck him. 

“Esteri, come here a moment,” he declared loudly, getting pretty much everyone’s attention. He waited until she came to stand before him, uncertain and nervous. “My kin have come on this quest, because it affects them for it is part of their heritage, reclaiming their homes, or their loyalty commands it. Mr. Baggins was hired on for a purpose,” he cast Gandalf a doubtful glance, “But you came greatly of your own free will, as I understand it.”

The wizard nodded. The choice to decline his invitation, as it were, was always hers. Gandalf would never have forced her into it, not outright. 

Thorin continued, “Though we are just begun, I feel as though you have earned m- our gratitude.” He raised his chin to look her in the eye. “I offer you a gift, a name. “Zinlaz”. It means “star” in our tongue.” There were a few muffled gasps and murmurings, mostly due to the shock that Thorin would share even so little of their highly secretive and well-guarded language. Thorin motioned to the stallion. “If you feel it suits him.”

Essi, already surprised at being called in front of Thorin so formally, felt her jaw drop before her sense kicked in. She shut her mouth so quickly her teeth clacked together. “Th-Thorin…” she looked over at the horse, who chose that moment to toss his head, looking regal and majestic. “Well, I think he likes it.” With a wide grin, she faced the dwarf king again. “Thank you,” and feeling it was the proper thing to do, she bowed low at the waist. “Zinlaz, the stallion who rides in the company of the hardiest of dwarven kings. He could be no greater blessed than to have such a name, and you have my deepest thanks and appreciation.”

Thorin chuckled, feeling his neck heat at her compliment. “Not many of the race of men would rally to our cause and yet you willingly threw your fate in with ours. It is no small gesture.” He watched her rise, the excitement clear on her face. It thrilled him, and he couldn’t explain why. His face split into a bright smile as she turned and ran to her horse to coo his name to him, peppering his nose with kisses. 

Dwalin stepped up to his friend’s side. He spoke to Thorin in Khuzdul. “That is a heavy gift.” He arched a brow, crossing his arms. “You have practically named her a dwarf-friend.” He had not seen a smile like that on Thorin’s face since the day Fíli was born. Interesting. His gaze slid back to the woman. Very interesting. “Is there something you should tell me?”

Thorin whipped his head to the side, looking at Dwalin blankly. “No, is there something you wish to hear?” He returned in the same tongue. 

Dwalin simply huffed, a low grunting sound, and continued to watch the woman. Eventually he walked off to find his brother. “I believe,” he said quietly, “she is his One.” He spoke still in their language, for the hobbit and the wizard sat nearby. 

“Aye, I can see it in his eyes. Glóin agrees.” Balin confirmed, his face looking grim for a moment. With the non-dwarves bear he maintained the same level of verbal caution. 

Gently, Dwalin set his hand on his brother’s shoulder. Balin had lost his One, years before Smaug attacked. In childbirth no less. It was uncommon for dwarven women, but Idrika, as lovely as she had been, had been quietly ill most of her life. The healers said it was her heart that beat wrong, and left her in her frail state. As she got older, it became more apparent. 

Balin nodded subtly, neither needing to speak on the matter. He had thrown himself into his work since then. “Thorin may not yet understand it. While certainly not impossible, it is very rare that someone finds their One in another race. I can think of no such happenings in my life, but I have heard recountings of it during father’s time.”

Gandalf peered around at Essi, seeming only to be smiling at her joy. Thorin’s One, was she? Well now, that was certainly not what he expected. He would keep to himself his light conversational level knowledge of Khuzdul, and simply wait to see how things played out. Perhaps this would be a good thing in times to come. Puffing in his pipe, he returned to his silent thoughts. 

“Nori, Bofur, you have first watch. Dwalin and Dori can take second.” Thorin issued the command as dinner wrapped up, and some members went off to sleep as early as they could. He saw Essi scooting her bedroll nearer to the fire. She was not as warm as a dwarf. The clearing was small, surrounded by thick underbrush, and most were packed in close to one another. There were places to sit further out, as some had taken to doing to eat and talk, but not wide enough to lay down. So they clustered together. He set his bedroll on Essi’s other side, between her and the brisk breeze that swept through the scraggly trees. 

Essi turned as her new windblock appeared. “Thank you, Thorin. The name is perfect.” She smiled at him as she slipped under her thick wool blanket. “Zinlaz loves it. I’m sure.”

“You speak horse now?” He teased her, shaking out his bedroll.

Chuckling, Essi grinned at him, in a way that made her nose crinkle slightly and her eyes sparkle. “Oh you’re funny.” Reaching over, she freely gave him a nudge. Recalling their conversation from back in Bag End she arched a pale brow, “I thought I was to torment you, O’ Mighty King, not you to torment me!”

Thorin flicked his own blanket over himself,as he lay on his dusted out bedroll, giving her a sly and smug grin, “Someone must.” He echoed her statement from the same conversation before he turned and lay on his side, his back to her for propriety. His eyes may have closed, but his mind raced, at every turn his thoughts returned to the woman who lay so near him. 

Essi shook her head and lay down, though she kept her back to the fire and faced the dwarf. “Valar save me…”


	4. Success

Morning saw the Company of Thorin Oakenshield on the road once again, trudging along at a decent pace. Though it still made Essi feel like she was in a slow herd. The dwarves managed to keep themselves entertained, or at least warded away boredom through a series of games and banter. She rode in place behind Gandalf, listening to the goings on around her, but her gaze was on the center of the grey cloaked figure before her. Just what use did he think she would be to this endeavor? She was not well versed in this world, only vaguely aware that it was a story in her own world. She had not been one for fantasy, or romance, or grand adventures. To the dismay of her coworkers and sparse friends, she had only ever seen a handful of movies, and while she did enjoy a good book, westerns had caught her attention more than anything. A few historical fictions, but nothing in such fantasy genres as this. The two blue wizards had mentioned that now and then people from her world would catch glimpses of other worlds, and often these became entertainment, be it books, movies, plays, songs, or what have you. 

So why was she here? She had few appreciable skills. True she could hold her own in battle, Alintar had insisted that she train hard, harder than anything she had ever experienced, and she was grateful for that as it had saved her life more than once, of that she was quite sure. But as she soon understood, these dwarves were far more capable than she could ever dream to be. Even Ori, who she was quick to see was a pacifist. He had already sketched her, and his gentle smile warmed her heart, rather like a puppy might. She kept that particular thought to herself. 

“Essi?” 

She turned her head when said puppy spoke up beside her. “Yes, Master Ori?”

The shy dwarf bobbed his head and smiled at her. “You wear your hair in braids, do they represent anything to you? I understand the ways of men are different, but they look well kept.” His cheeks had a tinge of pink, and he glanced behind him. 

Essi turned her head to see there were a number of dwarves trying to look as though they weren’t listening in. She chuckled and replied in a clear voice. “They mean just that I don’t like my hair in my face, whether I’m riding or fighting. Nothing more, my friend.”

Ori’s smile widened at the word friend, and he nodded. “Well, they do become you.”

“Bless, thank you.” Essi reached up to run a hand over the braids she had bound the sides of her hair and her fringe back in. They went far enough to keep the rest of her hair back and she had tied them off near the back of the crown of her head. Then the golden blonde hair was left to fall free, save for a few braids she had finished out on a whim. 

“They would not be amiss on a dwarven dam,” Nori said from the pony behind his brother. “Were you but shorter you could pass as a young female of our own.”

Turning in her saddle a little she eyed the star haired dwarf. “I expect you mean that as a compliment?”

Nori choked on a draw from his pipe, and scowled. “Aye!” He barked as he gasped a breath of air. 

Essi laughed, she couldn’t help it, at his disgruntled frown. “Oh, Master Nori, you are quite funny. Thank you.” Turning forward, she chuckled and kept riding. Behind her she could hear Bofur laughing and giving his friend a good hearted ribbing. 

The days continued to pass, though just a few before they were at the edge of the wilds. A tall rise loomed up ahead as night began to fall. Essi rolled her shoulders as Thorin announced they would camp at the top. She was stiff from the night before, Dwalin had agreed after the first night, to spar with her, and the other dwarves jumped in when they felt the urge. At first it threw her off, and she had been sent sprawling at Glóin’s feet. But she was quick to catch on, and found the whole thing kept her in her toes, and was exhilarating. After one session she had admitted to Dwalin, while he honed the edges of his twin axes, it gave her a strange comfort to know she could keep up with some of their number. 

“Even under the wizard’s guidance, Thorin would no’ have allowed a woman t’ accomp’ny us if he didn’t think ya had some skill.” He offered as some reassurance. 

It had actually helped her feel better yet. And as they rode up to the top of the rise, she was eager to stretch her muscles again against the tattooed dwarf. She had, in the course of their ride that day, found herself near the front of the procession. Zinlaz’s legs being so much longer than the ponies’ usually kept her near the front and she had to hold him back often. 

“Once,” Thorin nearly startled the woman when he spoke out of the blue, “when we were younger, Dwalin and I sparred… I cut off the smallest toe on his left foot. Mangled the one beside it.” He turned his gaze on hers, his expression meaningful. 

“Oh?” It took a second for the meaning to dawn on her, but Essi’s eyes soon lit with a sparkle. “Oh!” Her grin curved with a wicked edge. The king gave her the barest of winks, she half believed she had imagined it, but already her mind was processing this new piece of information. Interesting indeed! She had been eager before for their spar, and she was doubly so now. So much so that she left Zinlaz to a willing Nori, and was hopping about around Dwalin, trying to rush him along. 

“Would ye git out o’ the way, lass!?” Dwalin growled at her when she tried to help him unpack his bedroll and between the two of them it was fumbled to the ground. 

Thorin either took pity on his friend, or he wished to see what Essi would do with the tip he had given her earlier, and he waved Dwalin off. “Go, tire her out, so we all have peace.” Her dry look only caused his lips to quirk in the one corner. Still, he had things sorted for Dwalin and slipped over to quietly watch. 

Essi and Dwalin paced a cautious circle, neither yet attacking. They clashed their weapons now and again in aggressive looking faux lunges. Neither took the bait. Dwalin had the least patience and the greater hunger between the two, so eventually, he took the initiative to get their spar started and ended, sooner rather than later. They quickly immersed themselves in the deadly dance, flashing steel and strong limbs. Essi didn’t have the raw strength of the dwarf, but she was quick and sinewy, and placed her strikes so as to benefit her longer reach and faster retreat. She blocked carefully, deflecting rather than taking the brute force of his blows. Thorin could see her pushing her attacks to Dwalin’s left. She worked to put his weight on the outside of that foot, between both his defensive and offensive movements. It was luck, in the end, that gained her the upper hand. He stepped with his right boot on a loose stone that rolled under his weight and he had to catch himself on his left, and for a brief second he wobbled. The woman was quick to pounce on her chance, and singularly vicious in a rain of quick attacks, both with blade and fist, that she had knocked Grasper from Dwalin’s grip. Keeper, alone now, his brother sunk into the trunk of the scraggly tree that grew nearby, swung at the woman’s blade, hoping to entirely disarm her first. 

Essi deflected his blows, or dodged them, still working in her quick strikes. But a backhand from his meaty fist against her shoulder had her rolling, with desperate speed, out of the way of Keeper’s bite, though she knew he would have stopped shy of truly injuring her. In a quick move she swung herself around on her foot, kicking as his stable leg, and she drew her dagger, sinking it into the dirt beside his right foot. His weight automatically shifted left, and as she deflected Keeper, she drew her legs under her, muscles tight and ready, then when he drew back from that stroke, his fist balling for another, she straightened up, turning the hilt of her sword up and catching him under the jaw with a blow that left her forearms numb. 

Dwalin staggered back and slumped to the ground. He breathed, but stayed down. A cheer erupted from the gathered crowd of dwarves, one hobbit, and one wizard. Bofur hurried forward, proclaiming with an oddly jovial tone, “He’s knocked out!” Though not for long, as the unconscious dwarf stirred and Bofur sprang away to a safe distance. 

Essi laughed in disbelief, sitting heavily on the ground near the closest of her companions, which happened to be a proud looking Thorin. “I did it! Ha! I did!” She was panting hard, but looked very pleased with herself. Someone passed her a waterskin, and she drank until her throat no longer felt dry and didn’t rasp when she breathed. 

Thorin gave her a hand up when she was ready. “You did well, I am impressed.”

“Aye,” An aching Dwalin agreed, while sitting still and allowing Oin to check his head and neck. “Stop tha’! Enough! The lass go’ lucky!” After his patience wore thin, he grumped the healer away and stood to approach Essi. “You,” he pointed at her with Keeper still in his hand, “We will train, harder. Every day. An’ with the others, too. You will borrow what weapons I tell ya, and learn them well.” He then stunned her with a rather handsome smile. “We will see what comes of you.” And he placed Keeper on his back, and went to fetch Grasper, and some dinner. 

Still staring after him, Essi felt her jaw drop. “Harder!?” She squeaked, looking down at Thorin as her eyes widened. “Does he wish to kill me!?” The woman questioned with dry sarcasm. 

Shaking his head, Thorin pat her shoulder. “No, you have simply impressed him. He’s excited.”

“Excited!?” Essi gasped in dismay. “I’d hate to see him any more pleased!”

Thorin grinned, humored by her reaction. “It means he likes you.” With a chuckle, he turned to assign watch for the night and get a bowl of stew. Kíli had shot two hares and a fat pheasant during the ride. For a few moments his mind fell back to the stew he and Essi has made the night they met. Her colloquialism for the jerked meat had been childish, but he instead heard the word ‘cute’ echo in his head. That caused him to stop and blink. Esteri Kivi, he knew already, was many things. Cute was not a term he would readily apply, not where she might hear it anyways. Still, she had an oddness around her. Perhaps because she was a wanderer’s child? He finished his meal in further quiet contemplation, of more than just the woman, though without his bidding his thoughts often found their way back to her. Then he turned and strode to the edge of camp, near where his nephews sat keeping near the fire. He tuned out the rest of camp, until familiar chilling cries pierced the night. Orcs. 

“What was that?” Bilbo asked, frightened, and rightly so. 

“Orcs,” came Essi’s half sleepy sounding reply. She was darning a hole in a sock, one Bofur had complained of yesterday. 

“Orcs?” Bilbo felt his heart quailing. He knew his voice reflected that, but was a confident enough hobbit to admit he was afraid. Orcs were terrifying enough in stories, he dearly wished to never see one up close. 

“Throat-cutters.”

“There’ll be dozens of them out there.”

Essi glanced up and out into the darkness. Dozens? Not likely this close to Ranger’s land. Half a dozen of desperate fools searching for game perhaps. 

“The lone-lands are crawling with them.”

“They strike in the wee hours, when everyone’s asleep.”

The woman’s brows furrowed. Had these two boys even seen orcs? When she looked up and saw their faces she understood. They were taunting the poor hobbit!

“Quick and quiet, no screams.”

“Just lots of blood.”

Essi set her handwork down and her face had contorted into a snarl that she was about to release on the two idiots when a voice barked out, making her still and retreat. 

“You think that’s funny? You think a night-raid by orcs is a joke!?” Thorin turned on them, getting a prompt and petulant response from them, as he had many times in their lives. 

“We didn’t mean anything by it.”

Essi scoffed.

“No, you didn’t. You know nothing of the world!” Thorin snapped in disappointment, and he strode across camp. 

Watching him, Essi rose and dusted herself off, approaching casually as she vaguely heard Balin telling the story of Thorin’s past. She came to stand not far from Thorin, seemingly looking out into the night. Her paler blue gaze studied the shadowed, richly colored eyes of the dwarf. She could see pain in them when Balin spoke of his losses, for it hadn’t just been the loss of Erebor that Thorin had been made to suffer, but of his father and grandfather then after. As she thought that, she saw Thorin had returned her stare, and she was glad of the shadows that hid the flush of her cheeks at being caught outright. 

Thorin watched Essi sidelong, but could not see the usual and unpleasant pity he had gotten from others. He wanted nothing of pity, it served no purpose and only made him feel sorrier for himself. No, in the woman he detected empathy, she was alone, he recalled, devoid of kin, and it seemed that she understood enough to not pity him. Instead of the depressing weight of pity, he felt a rush of support from her, uplifting, and encouraging. 

“We few had survived,” Balin was saying, and then his tone slowly grew more inspired, in awe of the dwarf of whom he spoke. This drew Essi’s attention back. “And I thought to myself then, ‘There is one who I could follow. There is one I could call King.’”

Essi watched as Thorin turned, and she followed suit, looking in subtle awe at the strength of emotion she saw among the standing dwarves. They were so drawn, so connected to king and cause, she felt nearly as inspired by that alone as she had been by the tale that brought it on, and the song that had echoed to her very soul, some long days ago in Bag End. She looked to Thorin, studious in her gazing. Balin was right, there could be no other King Under the Mountain. 

“And the pale orc?” Bilbo recovered from the fog of awe first. “What happened to him?”

Thorin startled the hobbit with a fiercely voiced answer. “He slunk back into the hole whence he came. That filth died of his wounds long ago.”

Neither woman nor hobbit missed the look shared by Balin and Thorin. Essi pushed the dark fearful thoughts that brought up to the back of her mind, and she went to straighten out her bedroll and crawl into it. Neither she nor Dwalin had been assigned watch, and she intended to get the most sleep she could. After knocking Dwalin out, she felt she had earned it. Laying down with a long sigh, she drew out the wooden pendant she had carved a world ago, absently worrying it between her fingers. 

“Did you carve that?” A low voice rumbled beside her. Thorin had once again laid his bedroll out near hers, though by no means improperly crowding her. He motioned to the piece in her hand. 

Though she knew it well, Essi still automatically glanced at her pendant. “Yes, of a rowan tree, the day my mother died. Or rather I started it then. I was so shaky then it took me half a week to finish.” She told him, sitting up and removing it, the woman passed it to him with no hesitation. “I don’t know why, but I always felt it kept a part of her near. We buried her beneath that tree.”

“You said you had no other kin. Who aided you in doing so?”

“I travelled with a group going to Gondor then,” she lied the easy lie the wizards had concocted for her. “A couple of men helped me. One of their wives let me stay with them after we arrived. Let me sort out what to do, where to go.”

After a quick appraisal of her work, Thorin handed the necklace back, his smile gentle and understanding. He appeared even a touch thankful she had shared so dear a thing with him. “They are always, in part, with us. But that is a nice remembrance.”

Nodding and smiling, Essi bade him goodnight and curled beneath her cover, dropping into a quick slumber. For the first time in a long time, she dreamed of her mother. And, strangely enough they argued. When Essi awoke; she couldn’t recall the details, only that her mother kept insisting that Essi find her heart, while Essi assured her that her heart was, in fact, in her chest where it belonged. Taika had criticized her daughter for her literal mind. This left Essi all the more confused as she mulled over the strange dream. It hadn’t felt like other dreams, there was something more, something that lingered with her, though as any other dream, the details quickly faded. 

And the road went on, sunny days becoming wet, spring rains watering the fields and forests. The dream was forgotten as the spirits of the company were slowly drowned by the seemingly endless rain. 

“Here, Mr. Gandalf,” Dori spoke up one day, “can’t you do something about this deluge?”

“It is raining, Master Dwarf,” A rain soaked Gandalf called to him, as tired of the weather as anyone else, he simply kept such things to himself. “And it will continue to rain until the rain is done.” He frowned as he detected the faintest sound of grumbled discontent. “If you wish to change the weather of the world, you should find yourself another wizard!”

Essi sighed from the spot in front of Gandalf, knowing that was unlikely. 

“Are there any?” Came a quiet water sodden voice. Bilbo was not quite as soaked as one might have expected. Essi has taken pity on him, and silently but firmly placed her own cloak over the hobbit. It was so large on him it covered much of his pony’s hindquarters and kept his seat dry. 

“What?” Gandalf had, in that short span already let his mind forget Dori’s question. Oh, right!

“Other wizards,” Bilbo supplied before Gandalf could continue. The conversation was a decent distraction from the weather. 

Gandalf, it seemed, agreed with the small man, as he began to elaborate. “There are five of us. The greatest of our order is Saruman the White. Then there are the two blue wizards…” He recalled their letter that came with Essi, but the two kept their presence in the west minimal and had not signed it. “You know, I’ve quite forgotten their names.” 

“Alintar and Berdunn!”

“Quite so!” Gandalf smiled, nodding, once she said it he felt partly foolish for having forgotten, but he hadn’t seen either of them in such a long time, no one would believe him. 

Bilbo spoke up again, “And who is the fifth?”

Essi’s attention left the conversation as she saw one of the ponies stumble slightly upon the thick muddy ground. Fíli kept his seat, she was pleased to see, but still Thorin was looking at him skeptically. The day was not yet over, and she doubted their leader would want to try and wait out the rain that seemed not to want to end. She looked around them, there was nowhere that would offer shelter anyway. Thin and widely spaced trees,some water drenched undergrowth. Very little that would give them haven, and as she saw Bofur realizing when he turned out his pipe, a fire would be a miserable thing to try and light. Hopefully someone would have a dry flint. Once again, as had crossed her mind more than a few times in the past couple of years, Essi wished she had a lighter or five. Though it would raise too many questions. She shivered and ducked her head against the rain. Passing where Fíli’s mount had stumbled, she let Zinlaz pick his steps carefully, then let him push on to the front. 

Thorin took one glance at her, then did a quick double take. “Do you intend to catch cold?” He tossed his head to clear wet strands of his hair from his vision. 

“Someone more susceptible needed it,” The woman shrugged. “Thorin, the path is so slick and narrow here, we risk a pony stumbling.” Which would be a greater setback than he wished to face. 

“And what would you have me do?” He grumbled, not immune to the poor weather. “We must press on, I will not let rain stop us.”

Essi nodded, “I understand, but I know you and your kin know each other well and have traveled together. What do we do if one of the ponies fails? I’ve never traveled with a group this large,” she spoke in gentled tone, sounding simply curious. “I don’t know what course of action should be taken, I thought perhaps you could tell me.”

Thorin turned to look at her, somewhat skeptical. She was trying to play him, and he knew it. But when he turned to her, his own mount slid in the mid, just a little bit, enough that he turned forwards again and steadied the pony before letting it continue on. Perhaps she was right, the road was treacherous for the beasts. “You are wily, Miss Kivi.”

“Mmm, only when I need to be.” Essi shrugged. “Take heart I’m not foul natured too.” She gave him a rain soaked grin. “What of that oak, off a ways? There.” She posted across a patch of muddied grass, through a break in some viney undergrowth. “It looks like our best chance. And we could eat lunch, warm ourselves.”

Looking at where she pointed, Thorin nodded. He shouted a command back to Dwalin and Balin, and they split up, Dwalin guiding his pony quickly over to investigate the oak, and Balin leading the others. Watching them, Thorin looked ahead at the path, while Essi let Zinlaz turn at his leisure to look back. She squinted through the rain, but saw nothing alarming behind them. Her traveling coat, though waxed, was left wanting without her cloak, and Thorin saw her shiver. Was she always so cold? Without a second thought he swung his own cloak off and draped it over her, “Let’s hope we can find something dry enough to burn before you chill to the bone.”

With a grateful smile, Essi clutched the cloak around her. “I think that happened hours ago.” They others had gone on, and they followed them. “Thank you,” she indicated the cloak, already feeling better without more rain running down her. 

“The hobbit did join us in haste. Likely he forgot a few more things. I admire your kind heart, Essi, but do not lend until you become wanting yourself.” Thorin counseled her. “We dwarves are of a sturdier make, remember that. I believe Dwalin has a spare cloak.” Though he thought it would take nothing shy of an order to make him give it up. 

“What is this?” She patted his cloak. 

“Ram’s hide, stock from the Iron Hills. My cousin may not have come along, but he sent it to me anyway. He knows I favor them.”

“I can see why!” Essi snuggled down into the heavy leather. Hers was cow hide, and not nearly as warm nor supple. “You may have to pry this back off of me!” She teased him. 

Thorin laughed and looked over at her. “When our quest is complete, I will personally see to it that you receive the finest of ram’s hide cloaks.” If only to get his back! He knew enough about women, that he recognized that content kitten face she was making. 

Fíli was there to hold Minty’s reins as Thorin stopped by the other ponies. “She looks like mother when she would steal father’s favorite coat.” He mused in Khuzdul, chuckling a little. “I think you’ve lost that one.”

“A small price to pay for an able warrior.” Thorin returned with a kind smile at his elder nephew. Patting Fíli’s shoulder he walked over to direct the establishment of a quick camp for lunch. “Find any dry wood you can!”

A few dwarves grumbled, cursing the chances of finding anything dry in this weather, but off they went to do so. Essi and Bifur cleared the driest looking spot they could find to build a fire and drove in the poles for the spit, while Kíli slipped off to try to find some game. He slunk back, unsuccessful and sulking. Essi, once again, had a stash of jerked meat she gave to the pot. The scavengers came back with enough dry wood, by some miracle, to heat their lunch and dry themselves out a little. 

Bilbo was dried out, given a bowl of reconstituted beef and the last of the flour gravy, and squished between Bofur and Nori. He was warm, if a little compacted, and wrapped in the dried cloak from Essi. She was still covered in Thorin’s cloak, but the king was doing fine in his fur lined coat. 

Staring out from the cover provided by the thick branches of the oak, Thorin leaned back against the trunk. He let his thoughts drift for a while, until he realized the rain was letting up a little. He could see patches of blue sky and the sun was peeking down between clouds. “Let’s get going.” Then he nearly jumped out of his skin when a person dropped from above him in the wide branches. He had his sword half drawn before he realized it was Essi. Her innocent blink had him thinking he had been the one not paying attention. He heard a round of laughter from a few of the others, and he shook his head. “And now you’re part bird, flitting around in the trees?”

“Ehhh, I like to think of myself more catlike.” Essi retorted as she made for her horse. She had some short branches in her hands that she slipped into any spare space in her saddlebags. 

Catlike. Of course, she had looked like a happy kitten after all. Thorin shook his head and soon had his company on the road again. “Essi, Zinlaz is used to this weather in Rohan, scout ahead and see how the road is.”

“On it!” Essi let Zinlaz take the lead, glad he could stretch his legs again, though she was cautious of the ground conditions. The road was clear further ahead, save for a couple of puddles, but they were easy enough to avoid. She saw no signs of danger or tracks ahead, for quite a ways, letting the stallion trot through the mud to see as much as she could before she would have to turn back. She spotted the faint shape of a structure ahead and pushed on to it. It had once been a farmhouse, she guessed by the faded lines of worked fields below it. It had been a month or more since they had seen any tending, and the house was charred remains. Pity, that. She surveyed the area, then turned back to make her way back to the company. 

Thorin, at the lead, spotted her returning first. He watched her, she seemed to be enjoying the comfortable trot that Zinlaz was holding, relaxed as she enjoyed the green scenery as the rain had stopped shortly after she had left them. “What did you find?”

“An old house, not much remains, but we should reach it before nightfall. It will be a good place to camp for the night. From here the terrain will be harder, the path is less tended and rocky, unless we pass closer to Imladris.” 

Thorin huffed, his expression darkening. “No, we will not.”

“I expected as much. Then we should get to the old house and rest there as best we can.” Essi ran a soothing hand along her stallion’s neck as he tossed his head. “Hey boy, let’s not run right now. I won’t risk you slipping either.” She leaned far forward to massage the base of his ears, and the horse arched his head back, enjoying the touch there. “If you want, I could take Kíli ahead to hunt for some game. We are a touch light on meat.” 

Thorin looked back at his archer nephew and nodded. “Very well. Keep your wits about you, be cautious this is not the safe lands we were in before.” He saw her scathing look, barely masked under an obliging smile. She knew, but he couldn’t help but remind her. 

Essie collected her companion and they trotted away from the others, the woman giving her stallion more freedom to run a little ways on, as Kíli held onto her waist securely. He had never ridden such a tall horse before! Twice Essi had to remind him not to crush her, and he sheepishly loosened his grip to her relief. When they neared the farmhouse, she turned off to the open fields and the tree lined stream beyond, the house behind them. “Here, I’ll let you down and ride round that bend there, should scare up something.”

“Perfect, see that old fence post? I can see clear from there.” Kíli agreed. 

“Do. Not. Shoot. Me.” Essi emphasized her statement by rapping him on the head with each word, then grinned and rode away. 

Watching her go, Kíli also grinned as he watched her, walking to his stand. Yes. She would be perfect! Now if he could just get his uncle to see it as clearly as he did. She was a warrior, a budding smith, and quite the beauty in her own right, even though she was human. He crouched and waited for sign of game. 

By the time the others had caught up, the two were relaxing on a boulder to the side of the fields, a brace of coneys at their side, and Kíli was showing her the basics of archery. She knew the concepts, but had never put it to practice. 

The party grew near as Kíli handed her his bow to try and pull. And pull it she did, with a little effort as she was not used to such an exercise. 

“Essi! Don’t let go! Don’t move!” Kíli’s face flushed as he saw before him an obstacle he hadn’t anticipated. She had pulled the bowstring back, but untrained she had not turned her body, and a couple of prominent things were now in the path of the string. He reached out and took hold of the bow, matching her grip in mirrored fashion, and drew the bow away from her. His face grew redder and redder. 

Essi, who had stilled at the urgency in his tone, was confused until she looked at him and saw his gaze upon her chest. Her pale freckled face flushed with embarrassment and she let him have his bow back once he had a secure grip. “By the Valar… that is embarrassing! How awful!” 

Kíli returned his bow to its place at his back, and he couldn’t help that he began laughing, until he had to sit down, howling and giggling alternatingly. 

Thorin raised a brow as he lead the others passed them, but wisely, he didn’t ask. “We’ll camp here for the night,” he announced as he dismounted and looked around the ruins of the home. “Fíli, Kíli, look after the ponies. Make sure you stay with them.”


	5. Campfire Tussle and Roast

“A farmer and his family used to live here,” The wizard stated with no shortage of trepidation while he inspected the ruins of the house. This wasn’t good, it wasn’t good at all. He could hear Thorin issuing orders, the foolish would-be-king intended them to stay in this place! He turned to look at the dwarf in question as others hurried to begin supper. “I think it would be wiser to move on.” He saw that Thorin heard him, but made no comment in return. He could also see the concerned gaze of Essi peering at him over the shorter heads of the dwarrow. What he had to say next he doubted would be received by the dwarf, but he had to try. “We could make for the hidden valley.”

Essi had just been approaching Thorin to ask if there was any task she could be given when she heard Gandalf mention the hidden valley. She grimaced in time to hear Thorin’s low growl.

“But I’ve told you already. I will not go near that place.” Thorin tried, he truly did, to be civil, but it was such a wretchedly sensitive topic. And he anticipated that conversation was over, his line had been drawn. He started to turn, recognizing that Essi was there and seemed to want his attention as well, and for the moment she was certainly preferable to this maddening wizard. 

“Why not?” 

Thorin grit his teeth as the wizard questioned his orders and he turned back to look at the tall man. He heard a soft sigh behind him, recognizable as Essi. 

“The Elves could help us, we could get food, rest, advice!” Gandalf insisted, his tone trying to urge the dwarf to, at the very least, listen to reason. 

Had Gandalf gone mad? Essi wondered to herself, brows furrowing deeply. She crossed her arm over her chest and watched the two, wondering how this new argument would play out.

“Essi, lass, come gimme a hand!” She heard Bofur call for her, and she huffed a little, shooting Gandalf a shrug before she headed off to help get the catch of the day skinned and ready for the stew pot. She was aware of the wizard leaving, and she almost thought about going after him, but Bombur handed her the last of their root vegetables to cut up.While she worked, rather quietly, unable to shake the ominous feeling the charred ruins of the house left in her, she wondered if following such a stubborn dwarf would prove advantageous or not. But she knew she had no choice at this point. From what she could ascertain, from the vague answers by the wizarding folk, her destiny lay at the end of this quest. She nearly wanted to tell destiny to go screw itself, but she was starting to like these dwarves,or rather dwarrow. By the time the daylight had dimmed supper was ready, and she grabbed a bowl. 

“Is he coming back?” Bilbo asked from behind Essi, he looked up as she turned to face him, not liking the uncertainty in her expression. She didn’t know the answer any more than he did, and she had spent a lot longer time in the company of wizards than any of them. 

“Who?” Bofur asked, around a mouthful as he was handing out bowls.

Bilbo looked to the dwarf, “Gandalf!” Who else!? None of the dwarves had left, aside from the two Durin brothers.

“He’s a wizard! He does as he chooses. Here, do us a favor an’ take this to the lads.” Bofur handed him a pair of bowls. He turned and smacked Bombur’s hand. “Stop it, ye’ve had plenty!” He filled another bowl and the one in Essi’s hand, passing her the spare. “Run this up t’ our leader, aye?”

“Aye.” Essi smiled at him with a nod, and headed up where Thorin was sitting inside the ruins of the old home. She came upon him sitting on the charred remains of a hope chest. “Hey.” 

He looked up at her, raising a brow. “Is there aught you need?”

“Yeah, you to eat.” She chuckled and passed him the bowl, hunkering down on the floor across from him. “Not bad, given we’re entirely out of rosemary.” 

Thorin snorted in amused dismay. “Our wizard leaves us, we are drenched and miserable, and all you can worry about is herbs? Does not what lay ahead worry you?”

“Worrying means you suffer twice. I prefer not to think about the problems that I can’t fix now, and focus on what I can, or what matters presently. I’m very bad at forethought.” She shrugged. “Never been good at planning ahead. I just tackle things as they come.” Chowing down on her stew, she was glad they had a chance to eat something more solid than rations and things, she was also realizing how hungry she had gotten. 

Thorin found himself eating far slower, and watching her with a studious gaze. “Is it such a decision that brought you with us? Without forethought? Simply the promise of payment?” He didn’t know why he had asked that. It was no concern to him why the woman had come, only that she was here.

Essi stopped and looked up at him, “Oh, I don’t care much about the gold. I mean, sure it’d be great to have some financial security, don’t get me wrong I’m not stupid. But a share of the treasure as big as you’ve promised in the contract? I wouldn’t even know what to do with all that.” She tilted her head, “I mean… I know a few settlements I’ve been to that could use some, so I may go back and spread the wealth. Enough to be certain they can prosper.” 

“Settlements of men?” Thorin inquired curiously. Getting a nod, he snorted. “They will squander it.”

“Give a man a fish,” Essi said as she looked at her empty bowl, “And you feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish, and you feed him for a lifetime. Some of those people just need the proper tools and things, and they could improve upon the work they do already. Hopefully that would last for generations.” 

“And you say that you do not have forethought.” Thorin managed a faint grin at her, eyes alight with amusement.

Essi was about to retort when his nephews came dashing into camp shouting about trolls. She leaped up so fast she upset her bowl, the faint remains of her stew dripped onto the weathered boards below. “Where is Bilbo!?”

“Back there, trying to free the ponies!” Kili panted. 

“YOU LEFT HIM WITH THE TROLLS!?” Essi snarled with a sudden ferocity, striding forward, her hands clenched into fists and her gaze hardened on the young dwarf. 

“H-He can manage…” Kili squeaked, looking up at her and feeling like he was facing down his own mother, for he saw the same fiery rage in Essi’s eyes. 

“Calm, lass, we’ll fetch him, and the ponies.” Bofur intervened. He hefted his mattock and nudged Essi towards her gear. Though once she left he did fix the boys with a look of stern disappointment. 

Essi and the dwarves picked their way through the forest to creep up on where the trolls were. She was amazed at how quiet her companions could move, for as plodding and bulky as they otherwise were. Even Dwalin, who seemed to stomp everywhere could navigate the forest in near silence. They could hear voices ahead, coming through the brush and the trees.

“He’s lying!” 

“I’m not!” The familiar and terrified voice of Bilbo Baggins squeaked out.

“Hold his toes over the fire. Make him squeal!” 

Essi meant to leap forward, but Kili had beaten her to it. He slashed at the leg of one of the trolls, and smirked, “Drop him!” 

“You what?” The troll that spoke was out of Essi’s line of sight, but she could see the other two. 

“I said, drop him!” Kili repeated, before having a rather traumatized hobbit flung at him. He dropped his sword to catch him. “Bilbo!” 

As the trolls focused their attention on the pair on the ground, the rest of the company sprang from the surrounding underbrush and attacked. Essi right in the midst of the dwarves. She slashed and stabbed, pushing past the bumbling creatures as quickly as she could. In the mess she could see Bilbo was getting behind them, and she ran over, passing him her dagger before she ducked a meaty fist. “Here, cut the ponies free!” And back into the fray she went. At one point she felt a back against her, and a quick glance showed her it was Thorin. “You dwarves know how to show a girl a good time!” She quipped before she leaped out to slice at a hand that reached for the back of Ori’s tunic. 

Thorin turned his head, a cheeky grin on his face. It was gone a moment later when he dodged a tree-trunk leg as one of the trolls staggered back, hopping and hooting and grasping his foot. He thought they were getting the upper hand, but at some point he had lost track of their female member. He spotted Kili charging at the trolls, who now had Bilbo in their grasps. “No!” And he yanked his nephew back.

“Lay down your arms! Or we’ll rip his off!” Came the ugly voice of the troll holding Bilbo.

Thorin’s attention snapped to the monstrosities, and he glowered. So much for headway. A glance told him they were in no position to argue now. He dropped his blade, hating every moment of it. But he couldn’t be responsible for such a demise for the hobbit. They had no choice. They would find another way. 

Only they hadn’t. They were in bags now, or tied to a spit over a crackling fire. Not a single dwarf had spotted a way out, they had been shoved so quickly into bags it had astonished them that the trolls could move so fast. 

“Now I know I clobbered one…” The dimwitted troll fumbled around the camp. “Where’d it go?”

“Ah wots it matter, we got ‘nough here.” Another argued. 

The first troll squealed with piggish delight. “Here it is! Ohho! Look look! It’s a female!”

This got the other two trolls’ attention, and they both licked their lips. “Have her for afters we will.”

“Oy, not with the light fadin’!”

“We can take her back with us.” The troll who turned the spit reasoned. “Have her before bed.” 

There were some dark chuckles about from the other two and the dimwitted troll lifted a limp Essi from the ground behind a boulder. She was deposited unceremoniously beside the dwarrow, who raged and insulted the trolls, throwing threat after threat, in vain for they could not break free.

Thorin’s gaze never left her, from the moment he saw her lifted, his heart clenched and he stared at her. In the firelight it was impossible to see if she was even breathing. Fear chilled his blood, and clawed at his gut from the inside. He had gotten her killed. Esteri…

The biggest one turned away from licking his lips at the woman and looked at his companions. “Don’t bother cookin’ ‘em! Let’s just sit on ‘em and squash ‘em into jelly!” 

“They should be sauteed and grilled, with a sprinkle of sage.” 

“Oh, that does sound quite nice!” 

With a huff the big one spoke again, sounding more impatient. “Never mind the seasoning, we ain’t got all night! Dawn ain’t far away, let’s get a move on! I don’t fancy being turned to stone!” 

Bilbo was the first to gather a coherent thought that wasn’t about tearing the skin off of the trolls, as the dwarf behind him kept grumbling about, and he perked up then. “Wait! You’re making a terrible mistake!”

Dori, who could not see Essi then, none of the dwarrow on the spit could, scoffed. “You can’t reason with them, they’re half-wits!” 

Bofur objected, “Half-wits? What does that make us?”

Ignoring them, Bilbo went on. “I meant with the… uh, with the… with the seasoning.” 

The most intelligent, which wasn’t saying much, of the trolls turned his attention on the tiny hobbit. “What about the seasoning?”

Trying to keep his desperate trembling to a minimum, Bilbo continued, “Well, have you smelt them? You’re gonna need something a lot stronger than sage before you plate this lot up!” He did his best to ignore the indignant shouts behind him. They were certainly of no help. While he was coming to like some of them, a good deal actually, they were some of the most infuriating people he had ever met! And that was a lot from someone who knew Lobelia Sackville-Baggins.

The burly troll closed on the hobbit, crouching to look at him. “What do you know about cookin’ dwarf?”

“Shut up,” The curious one broke in, “and let the….uh, flurgerburbur-hobbit talk.” 

Now he was on the spot! Bilbo swallowed heavily, balling his fists to stop them from trembling. The trolls couldn’t see that, but the shaking unnerved him. “Uh… the-the secret to cooking dwarf, is uhm…”

“Yes? Come on.”

“It’s uh…”

“Tell us the secret!” Curious troll prodded.

“Ye-yes, I’m telling you!” Bilbo almost snapped at the troll, so nervous he was forgetting to be frightened. He was quite put out at the poor manners, until he saw the face of the troll and his fear came back. “The secret is…” He could see they were losing interest and knew he had to come up with something fast. “To…” faster. “Skin them first!” He grimaced, thinking that was absurd. The bellows from the dwarves didn’t help.

“Tom, get me filleting knife.” It worked, by some miracle, the troll bought it.

“What a load of rubbish!” Burly troll barked, “I’ve eaten plenty with their skins on. Scoff ‘em I say, boots an’ all!”

The dimwitted one grinned viciously. “He’s right! Nothing wrong with a bit o’ raw dwarf. Nice and crunchy.” He was drooling as he picked up Bombur’s sack and dangled the dwarf over his head, wide jaw agape. 

Bombur whimpered and stared at what appeared to be certain doom down the grimy maw of the troll. 

Panic filled the hobbit and he blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “Uh, not, not that one! He’s… he’s infected!” One of the trolls had spoken and he didn’t listen to it, so he went on. “Yeah, he’s got worms in his… tubes.” Oh that was so weak, so pathetic, he’d lost them for sure! But the troll squealed. Relief filled him as he watched Bombur tossed back with the others. Though the rotund dwarf was nearly dropped on the still form of Essi, which surely would have hurt her. If, that is, she was still in the state to be hurt. Bilbo pushed those thoughts aside, knowing he couldn’t let that concern him now. “In-in fact, they all have. They’re infested with parasites. It’s a terrible business, I wouldn’t risk it, I really wouldn’t.”

Oin wriggled, having lost track of the conversation somewhat. “Parasites? Did he say parasites?”

Kili scowled, the furrow of his brow inherited from his mother, and so very like his uncle. “Yeah, we don’t have parasites! You have parasites!”

Thorin had dragged his gaze off of Essi, and he realized what Bilbo was after. He gave Kili a sharp kick, his attention pointedly on the hobbit. The other dwarrow seemed to catch on then. 

“I’ve got parasites as big as my arm!”

“Mine are the biggest parasites! I’ve got huge parasites!” Kili was never one to be outdone.

“We’re riddled!” 

“Yes, I’m riddled!”

“Yes, we are, badly!”

Listening to the objections around them, the burly troll eyed Bilbo skeptically. “What would you have us do then? Let ‘em all go?” He didn’t like this, not one bit. Years of eating everything and they’d never seen anything like worms in tubes. 

“Well…” Bilbo shrugged.

“You think I don’t know what you’re up to? This little ferret it taking us for fools!” 

“Ferret?!” The hobbit squeaked indignantly.

One of the other trolls scowled. “Fools?”

A voice of sweet salvation rang out. “The dawn will take you all!” 

“Who’s that?” One troll asked.

“No idea,” Said the cook.

Tom liked the taller body on the man, looked like more food. “Can we eat him too?” Before the trolls could charge, Gandalf raised his staff and brought it down on the rock with a resounding crack, fracturing it in two, and letting the sunlight into the vale. He watched with satisfaction as the beasts squealed and shrieked, their bodies turned to stone before they could escape. And all the better Middle Earth was for it. He went to hurry down to the dwarrow.

“Ooh! Get your foot outta my back!” Dwalin groaned from his spot on the spit. 

There was a scuffling and hurriedness as Gandalf released the dwarves, or rather a few of them. He looked about in a panic until he spotted Essi laying on the ground. He rushed to her side, tucking his robe clear as he knelt down. Inspecting her gently, he was relieved she was breathing yet. Carefully he stroked a hand over her cheek. “Come now, my girl, this is no time for a nap.” He was surprised to find Thorin at his side, as soon as the dwarf was freed. “She is well, give her some space.” As soon as Thorin had knelt, others had crowded in. “Let her have some room!” 

Essi groaned, opening her eyes and wincing. There was daylight, and pain. She couldn’t be dead, dead wouldn’t hurt this much. “Ohh..” quietly she let out a string of expletives as she sat up. “What happened?”

“The big one got you, upside the head with his fist.” Nori said, from where he stood pulling his outer clothes on. “Saw you go down, thought they wouldn’t see you there.” 

“If you had gone to her they would have only spotted her sooner.” Gandalf assured the dwarf. He helped Essi up, and soon the dwarrow were dressing themselves and sorting out their weapons. 

“Where did you go, if I may ask?” Thorin questioned Gandalf once he was properly clothed again. 

“To look ahead.” Gandalf replied, not shocked at the question at all.

Thorin was just as unsurprised by that answer as the wizard was by the question. “What brought you back?”

Gandalf turned to the dwarf, eyes twinkling before answering in his cryptic way. “Looking behind.” He turned away and clonked his staff on the side of one of the new statues. “Nasty business. Still,” he glanced towards the bulk of the company, “they are all in one piece.” 

“No thanks to your burglar,” Thorin grumbled, thinking how much easier this night would have been if that hobbit could have simply freed the ponies without causing a ruckus. 

“He had the nous to play for time. None of the rest of you thought of that!” Gandalf defended, glad to see Thorin’s expression shift as he relented on that point. His attention turned to the trolls again. “They must have come down from the Ettenmoors.”

“Since when do mountain trolls venture this far south?” Thorin asked, feeling unease at the presence of these creatures. They should not have been here in the first place.

“Oh, not for an age. Not since a darker power ruled these lands.” The two of them shared a look, neither happy. That had quite the foreboding inference. Gandalf recovered first. “They could not have moved in daylight.” 

“There must be a cave nearby.” Thorin reasoned, and turned to look around. “Search, there is a troll hoard near us! Find it!” He issued the order, but even as he said it, he turned to another task. Essi was perched on a stone, reclined against it more than sitting, and he strode to her. “You--” He was startled when she held a hand up, nearly touching his face. But she had her eyes downcast and couldn’t see how close he truly was. 

“I know. Don’t patronize me, I have the throbbing head to remind me. That bastard caught me from a blindspot.” 

“Let me see.” Thorin insisted, not pushing it further. Her tone told him she was repentant enough, and he worried as the skulls of her kind were not as strong as his. There was a lump already forming, but he could see nothing beyond that. “Have Oin attend to you.” He wasn’t surprised to see the aged healer already trundling over. With a nod to the elder dwarf, he moved off to search for the cave as well.

While they searched, Essi sat still for Oin. He chuckled, “Ah, if only all my patients were as obliging as you, my dear.” He gave her his crooked smile and a nod as he poked and prodded her skull. “Looks like nothin’ is broken, you’re a lucky one!” Patting her hand affectionately, he drew out a strip of willow bark. “Don’t have the stuff for tea, but you can chew on this if it hurts too badly.” 

Essi accepted the bark and nibbled on one end of the strip. “Thank you, Master Oin.” She had a sweet smile for him, thankful for his aid. He seemed a kindly dwarf and she liked hm well enough. “While they search, I think I’m going to sit here a while.”

“Ah, just what I was gonna recommend.” He chuckled and went off to check the others for any injury. 

She leaned back against the stone, thankful it was still cool from the night, and let her head rest against it. Nibbling the bitter bark, she mulled over that whole fiasco. While she had missed the dwarrow and hobbit getting free, and whatever had turned those trolls into the statues not far from them, she hadn’t missed the fight. She was nitpicking everything she had done in it, trying to sort out how she could have done better. 

“You did good,” A voice beside her piped up. “Really.” 

She turned her head slightly, not wanting to lose the cool of the stone, to see Fili there. He was gentlemanly enough, for a dwarf, that his words didn’t surprise her. “Good does not get you knocked out while your friends are in peril.” 

“Friends? Do you consider us that?” He asked, honest hope on his face. It was hard, he knew, to befriend the race of men, for their lives burned out so quickly, but he still liked the thought of her being a friend to them. 

“I do.” She said with ease he envied. “I wouldn’t have stuck around for trolls if I didn’t.” 

Fili chuckled, “You did alright, I mean that. How many trolls have you faced before?”

“None.” 

“And you walk away from your first fight with them. Sounds like you’ve done well.” He said, trying to bolster her. “True, you got knocked out, but we all ended up in bags.” He saw her curious look, and while the others were mucking around in the troll hoard, he filled her in on what she had missed out on.

“Parasites?” Essi asked as she giggled. “Oh that’s funny!” 

Fili snickered beside her, “Only because it’s not true. We dwarrow are a clean race!” 

“Dwarrow?”

“Proper plural of dwarf.” Fili explained, “Most races still calls us dwarves instead.”

“Oh.” Essi snorted, “Well, I have been traveling with you all from the Shire, and that is a load of shit. I can smell you from here. I certainly wouldn’t care to be closer.” She knew her mistake as it passed her lips.

Fili’s eyes lit with mischief and he turned to her, spreading his arms. “How about a hug?”

“Fili… Fili no… no no no no!” She scurried back, halfway climbing the stone as she tried to shoo him away. 

A throat cleared and they both turned to see Thorin there. He held two blades in his hands. “Esteri, I think this would suit you well.” He passed the smaller of the two to her, strapping the other to his own belt. A brow raised at Fili. 

“She says we smell.” 

“She is not wrong.” Thorin retorted, “But then, so does she.” His lips curved slightly when he saw Essi’s jaw drop in indignation. He turned away and went back to counsel with the wizard and his advisors, hearing his nephew laughing behind him.

Staring after him, Essi shook her head. “Your uncle is wicked at times.”

“Aye.” Fili said as he laughed still. 

“Something’s coming!” Thorin’s voice called out.

Fili and Essi dashed for the rest of the group without hesitation. 

“Thieves! Fire! Murder!” Came a voice as a sled pulled by very large rabbits burst through the underbrush. 

“Radagast! It’s Radagast the Brown!” Gandalf proclaimed, in a tone he hoped would calm the others. “What on earth are you doing here?”

“I was looking for you, Gandalf. Something’s wrong. Something’s terribly wrong.” He spoke with a nervous disarray. 

“Yes?” Gandalf urged.

Essi sheathed her new blade, finding Thorin was right, it had fit easily in her hands and sh liked the weight of it. So this was Radagast. Alantar and Pallando had spoken of him a few times. Wizards, she decided, were a crazy lot, all of them. Magic and sanity must be mutually exclusive. She lost track of the conversation after that, her head reminding her that she didn’t much feel like dealing with the insanity of wizards. Until she found she was being watched by one of them.

“This is Alatar and Pallando’s girl?” Radagast asked curiously. “My, what a sight! Oh, I never thought we’d see one of her ki--” He was cut off by a loud cough from Gandalf and guided away from Essi and the others to continue their talk.

Thorin’s gaze slid to the woman, wondering what that had been about. He stepped closer to her. “What does he mean?”

Essi faced Thorin, and debated telling him what she knew, but she grimaced and shook her head. “I cannot say.” Gingerly touching the back of her head, she hissed softly. What she wouldn’t give for an ice pack right about then. “Wizards are a mystery, even to me. And I have traveled with three of them now. They’ll drive you to madness, they will.” 

That much was true, Thorin thought. “What did he mean, by one of your kind? Are you not of the race of men?”

“I am. Thorin, I honestly cannot guess what he was to say. And I wouldn’t try.” She was honest upon that, and faced him clearly. True, it was likely Radagast was speaking of her origin, but as he hadn’t finished the sentence, Essi could rightly claim ignorance, without lying. “You’ll have to ask him, though I doubt you’ll get a proper answer.” She gnawed again on the willow bark.

Eying the medicinal bark, Thorin nodded. “You should not be here.” 

“Don’t,” Essi growled at him, stepping closer. “Do not start with me, Thorin. I will go as I please. You cannot command me to stay back.” 

“You are a member of this company, I can command you however I please!” He snapped back at her, but kept his voice low. His eyes met hers, and they stared one another down for a few long seconds. “A woman should not have come.” 

Essi’s fist balled and she contemplated the pros and cons of slapping him then. The cons won out and she settled for a glare. “Say that again, and king or not, I’ll punch you right in the mouth! You’re not my kin, you’re not my father, you’re not my king. I choose to assist you and your kin of my own free will. You have no power over me that I do not grant you.” 

He hated that she was right, she was neither kin nor subject of his, and he could not hold that over her. But he could void her contract and send her packing. He also could not make such words pass his lips. “If you wish to accompany us further, you will have to follow orders, and do exactly as I say.” 

“Within reason.” Essi countered, watching his eyes widen and his nostrils flare. She had him riled up, which should have frightened her, but after orcs, wargs, trolls, and wizards, she wasn’t about to back down from a dwarf.

A howl rang out and ended their conversation for now.

“Was that a wolf?” Bilbo asked with no small amount of unease. “Are there… are there wolves out here?”

“Wolves? No, that is not a wolf.” Bofur answered with dread instead of his usually chipper tone.

Once more, all hell broke loose.


End file.
